From Innocence to Experience
by Thallium81
Summary: Bella was perfectly content with life in Forks until she lost her best friend Alice. Now a dark figure lurks in the shadows. Bella suspects that Edward knows more than he is letting on, but how can she solve the mystery if he keeps avoiding her? AU/Canon
1. Chapter 1

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter One: Best Friends

I was writing in my journal when my phone buzzed. I glanced at the little screen and saw the glittering teeth of my best friend Alice grinning up at me. I changed the screens often. Last week it was eyes. This week it was teeth. Maybe next week I could surreptitiously snag photos of my friends' noses. I had a million photos on my phone, and there was literally nothing better to do during Health class than change the pictures around. Texting was out because it was too easy to get caught.

On the second buzz, I answered Alice's call. "Hey."

"Why didn't you call me back?" She sounded seriously peeved. I glanced up at my clock on the bedside table, and saw it was almost eleven at night.

"I didn't realize it was already this late. Sorry." I had completely lost track of time after finishing the dinner dishes and reading the assigned Act from A Midsummer Night's Dream.

"Whatever. Did you ask Charlie about this weekend?" She brushed off my excuse along with her peevishness and got right down to business.

"Yup. I have to do the dinner thing tomorrow night with him at Billy's but then I'm free. I'll just go straight to your place from there."

"Yay! Try to get out as early as you can. I'll be stuck on my own til you show up," she whined a bit, albeit good-naturedly.

"What about Rose?"

"Date."

"Ah."

"Aren't you going to ask?" Her tone changed a little, and I could tell she was dying to gossip about our third Musketeer. Something about her voice sparkled just then, enough to get me interested, so I pulled the place marker onto the right page of my journal and slapped it shut.

I allowed my voice to channel my interest as I finally let go of the thoughts I had been jotting down, "Okay. Spill."

"Tyler Crowley!" Alice squealed.

"Shut up!"

"Seriously." I could hear Alice take a sip of something on her end of the phone. I knew it was her nightly herbal tea. I had tried it once and thought it tasted like muddy compost, but she swore it kept her skin beautiful, so she drank it every night. I admit she had the best skin I'd ever seen.

"Why would she go out with Tyler?" I was genuinely confused. I knew Rose had turned him down three times last year.

"He's not really bad looking."

"No..." I said tentatively. "But he's not exactly her type, is he?"

"Does she have a type anymore?"

"Be nice, Alice," I warned in a mock stern voice.

"I'm being perfectly nice." I knew Alice would never be intentionally catty toward Rose, but ever since the incident with Jazz (Alice's long time crush), there had been a twinge of- disapproval? Jealousy? "It's just that she seems to be trying every flavor in the buffet these days."

I had to admit Alice had a point.

About a year ago, Rose, the youngest of us by two months and 28 days, had become the first of us to make out with a guy. We were all at a party down the road from Rose's house, deep inside the more exclusive of the two zip codes that went to our high school. The house had a pool and a gate off the back yard that led right out onto the golf course that served as the central hub of the little community full of enormous houses. To be perfectly honest, I wasn't even invited to the party, but since I was the only one of the three of us with a vehicle, I was always drafted into going wherever Alice and Rose wanted to go. Part of me enjoyed the little tastes I was afforded of Rose's lifestyle. And part of me enjoyed watching Alice blend perfectly into it like a camouflaged soldier in the jungle. With her delicate frame, wide exotic eyes, and glittering smile, Alice looked more like a Persian princess than an orphan who lived "on the wrong side of town."

Alice and I had climbed the roof with a few other kids. Really, there was a balcony that practically lead right onto the roof, so "climbing" it wasn't even a stretch for tiny Alice in her tiny dress and giant heels. We'd been lured up there to have a look through a telescope, the night being unusually clear. It was from that vantage point that the platinum sheen of Rose's coif reflecting the moonlight caught my eye as the only spec of light in the black sea that was the fairway at night. Without thinking, I trained the spyglass right on her, only to reveal she was locked in a brutal tongue-wrestling match with a guy dressed in dark clothing. I nudge Alice, and she put her eye to the telescope and gasped. We could barely contain ourselves for the rest of the evening in anticipation of forcing Rose to give us all the dirty details.

"You may have a point Alice, but I think I see the logic behind Tyler Crowley."

"Okay?"

"He's on the JV Baseball team."

"It isn't even baseball season."

"That's not the point. He's clearly stepping stone material."

"Rose isn't THAT shallow."

"No, but Alice think about it. She has told us that she totally enjoys making out, right?"

"Right."

"And she has admitted – under extreme duress - that there are three varsity guys she would make out with in a heartbeat, given half a chance."

"Tyler's JV."

"Alice! Keep up. Stepping stone." I was getting exasperated.

"Maybe," she conceded grudgingly. "This just means we have to get her to spill on who the three guys are."

I had my suspicions about one or two of them, and I didn't really want Alice to get her thinking cap on for this game, in case I was right. "Well, we might be able to get around to that this weekend." I had to get this conversation off of the dangerous ground. "How long is William gone this time?"

"A few days I guess. He's hardly ever gone more than three nights, so I don't even ask any more. You can stay all weekend, right?"

"Of course." It had become tradition for me to sleep over at Alice's so she wouldn't be alone when her guardian was away. In the beginning, Charlie had suggested determinedly that she should come to our place instead, but after William telephoned to tell Charlie that someone needed to be around to turn the heat lamps on and off in the green houses and make sure the irrigators didn't freeze up during cold weather, Charlie had conceded the match. From then on out, Alice's place was like a second home to me. "I can even stay over Sunday night and give you a ride to school on Monday if he isn't back yet."

"Yay!" I could hear her clapping her little hands in enthusiastic delight.

"But don't be surprised if Charlie does a drive-by. We can't forget to call him if we leave the house."

"I know. I know. I told him I was sorry about last time." LAST TIME, Charlie had the whole police force (all three cars) out looking for us when he stopped by Alice's place to check on us and we weren't there. We had only gone to the supermarket, for some vitally important cookie dough and boy-watching, but Charlie tends to go a bit over-the-top in the dad department when he doesn't know exactly where I am.

I yawned. "I need to go, Alice. I'm dead."

She echoed my yawn. "Me too. See you in English."

"Yay," I responded flatly. "G'nite."

"Nightie."

I put down my phone and made sure the alarm clock was on. I could just hear Charlie snoring from his room down the hall, and the wind howled lightly every now and then. I felt a bit pent up despite my sleepiness, so I tried concentrating on relaxing my feet and then my claves and then my knees and so on in order to relax myself into some nice REM.

But my mind would always wander during that exercise, and on that night, I couldn't help smiling to myself about Alice. I was so lucky to have found a friend like her in this new little town.

She lived with her guardian- a dubious concept in my world of always living with one parent of another. There are TWO of them, after all. How can she have so completely run out of parents that she got stuck with a guardian? I wasn't even sure if she knew the answer to that.

Alice had lived with William for as long as she could remember. I lay there in my bed curling and uncurling my toes and remembered the first time I met her, right when I moved to Forks after having lived experimentally with my mother and her new husband in Jacksonville, Florida, for six months. I bumped into Alice in the 24-hour supermarket at about nine in the evening. We were the only ones there aside from the guys who were stocking shelves and the disillusioned woman standing in the only check-out lane reading a tabloid while waiting for us to bring our carts to the front.

Alice had a hand basket on the floor in front of her as she stood reading the ingredients  
on a box of cereal. I was pushing a cart (which I liked to call a chariot), but I couldn't get past her without asking her to move a little. I was too shy to ask her to move, so I stood there for over a minute while she was engrossed in the percentage of calcium per serving of Raisin Bran. I was peering at the choices around where she was standing so that when she finally moved, I'd be able to grab what I wanted and skitter by her unobtrusively. It was then that a guy pushing a pallet of cereal boxes on an enormous dolly turned onto the aisle and drew my attention away from the shelf and her attention away from the box.

"Move it, Brandon," he instructed in a low, smooth voice. The guy was about my age, maybe a little older with sparkling blue eyes behind two fans of lashes that made me extremely jealous. He looked to me like a gaunt lion with his angular cheekbones, wide-set eyes, and wild frame of tawny hair. She moved lithely away from the cereal shelf without a word to him, but I picked up on a weird energy. That sounds crazy, I know, but I instantly knew that she was there in the store loitering on the cereal aisle just for this guy. She had an air about her of unrequited obsessive passion. She hardly made eye contact with him, but I could feel it nonetheless. I could see it in the way her shoulders curved a little as she passed him, in the way she tilted her head just a bit to let her peripheral vision linger a split second longer on his movements.

Before she disappeared around the corner, I spoke to the guy: "Can you hand me some Cheerios, and I'll get out of your way?" I saw her turn and gawk at me as soon as she heard my voice. She watched him as he blinked for a second before complying with my request. Her eyes were trained on him every second that it took for him to reach out, grab a yellow box, and hand it to me. I took it from him and said "thanks" before heading in her direction. She remained frozen for a moment longer as the guy leaned into the shelf to scoot boxes around, then she looked at me for a second time.

That's when I was first struck with my impression of her as some kind of Middle Eastern princess. Her skin was fine: glowing, smooth; the palest imaginable shade of olive tinged her complexion. Her eyes were dark and glowing like burnished coffee beans, but too large and open and beautiful to really compare to anything so common. She had a fine line of black trailing off to an elegant point on her upper lids and a faint sparkle of ruby gloss across her mouth. Her short hair was the perfect dark frame for her large delicate facial features. For a moment, I was self-conscious about my limp, brown hair and plain, naked face, but I snapped out of it. It was a weeknight at the supermarket, after all.

She smiled at me and said "Hi, I'm Alice."

For a moment I was confused because the guy had called her Brandon, but maybe that was a nickname. "Bella," I smiled and held out a tentative hand. She shook it lightly, and I was momentarily bewitched by the softness and elegance of her little fingers. Truly I was jealous of her and her dainty beauty.

"Nice to meet you. Are you in high school?" Her voice was like music, her manner direct and open.

"Yeah. I'm a sophomore." My own voice sounded awkward and mumbly to my ears after hearing her speak.

Her face suddenly brightened enough to almost make me jump back. "Me too!" Then her face  
fell a little in consternation. "Why haven't I seen you at school?"

We fell into step together at this point, strolling slowly toward the checkout. "My first day is tomorrow," I laughed.

"Oh! You're new! That's great!"

"Great?"

"Well, it will be exciting to introduce you to everyone tomorrow," she enthused. I tried to hide my terror behind a non-committal grunt as I began unloading my groceries onto the conveyor belt in front of the cash register. She picked up on my mood though and changed tack: "At the very least, you can sit with me at lunch and I'll give you the low-down on anyone who catches your eye."

I couldn't help but smile at her gratefully. We chatted about the weather, and she warned me to bring extra socks to school the next day in case of a serious soaking downpour. Once she had paid and gathered her little bag, we continued our amiable chat on the way out the doors. It was drizzling lightly when we walked out into the near-empty parking lot with our bags. The little droplets floated in the light that streamed down from the tall lamp above my truck, and I saw Alice zipping up her coat and putting her bag into the basket of a bicycle.

"You're biking in THIS?" I was astounded. I had lived in Phoenix most of my life before the disaster of Florida, and even a mist like this was enough to cause serious traffic problems there.

"It's practically dry," she smiled as she pulled up her hood.

"Let me give you a ride home. You can point me in the direction of my house because to be honest, I'm already totally turned around."

"Really?" She smiled and together we lifted her bike into the back of my truck. She talked about the town a bit while I pulled out the choke and coaxed the engine to life with a few pulses of gas. I had to let it idle loudly for a moment while I stared at the three knobs on the dash trying to remember which one was the lights and which one was the wipers. It was an ancient beast of a truck, a three-speed automatic without power steering or power brakes. This trip to the store was my test drive, and I had nearly driven into a ditch pulling out of the driveway of my dad's house because I hadn't expected the impossible maneuvering.

I got the wipers going with a squeal thud squeal thud, and I got the lights on. I practically stood on the brake pedal while I put the truck in reverse, and I thought the engine would die before I quickly tapped on the accelerator. I thanked the heavens that the lot was not crowded as we lurched backward and then forward once I managed to brake and shift into drive. I struggled with all my strength to pull the wheel into an agonizingly slow right turn onto the two-lane highway that ran through the middle of town. Alice sensed my tentative unease and remained quiet as I fairly hunched over the giant steering wheel with white knuckles and coaxed the engine to move us forward with indelicate punches of my right foot.

"Is this the first time you've driven this thing?"

"Yeah. I just got my license, and it was a surprise from my dad. I was expecting to buy my own car once I got here, but this truck is really kinda cool."

"Yeah," she didn't sound particularly convinced of the coolness, though. She directed me to her house, which was only about six or seven blocks from the supermarket. I couldn't even see her house from the street, though. It was so completely surrounded by greenery: shrubs, trees, flowers, that it was totally obscured.

"Wow. Do you live in a tree?" I joked.

Alice smiled, "My guardian is a botanist. So practically, yeah. There are so many plants in and around the house that even on a clear day we don't get any sunlight inside."

I didn't know how to respond, so I said "Hunh." I was curious about her now. Guardian?

But it was late. I was tired. I had to navigate home on slightly slick roads without power steering and ABS. She hadn't forgotten that part either. I left the truck idling as I helped her haul the bicycle out of the back and listened to her simple left, right at the stop sign, left again instructions to Charlie's street. I figured I'd be alright to find the house once I got that far, so I smiled and waved and cautiously drove away.


	2. Chapter 2

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Two: Guarding the Jewel

The next morning I threw my Weekend-At-Alice's bag into my truck before climbing in. My truck started up and my hand automatically switched on the wipers. After only a year of living in Forks, I'd had to replace the wiper blades four times. Honestly, I could count the number of days it HADN'T rained since I moved here on one hand. When I pulled into the student parking lot at school I saw Alice chaining her bike to the rack. Only about three or four students in the whole school biked because the weather was always so abysmal. Alice just hated the bus that much.

I smiled at her as I walked toward the building where we shared our first class of the day. She linked arms with me and smiled on the way in. Fridays were the best. As soon as we walked through the door, Rose practically pounced on us with a smile that could have sparked a forest fire, even in the soggy woods around Forks.

"I'm getting a car! I'm getting a car! I'm getting a car!" She bounced up and down and up and down, her green and white pleated cheerleader skirt flying up with each bounce. I noticed several guys turn and stare, but I ignored them as I got swept up in the contagion of Rose's glee.

Alice was already asking all the right questions as she dragged Bouncy Rose toward our lockers. "I won't get it til Christmas, but that's only like nine weeks away, and it's red and beautiful!" We heard all about Rose's birthday-slash-Christmas gift to be on our way to the classroom. It was her aunt's car, a few years old, but still spotless with leather seats and everything. "And it's a convertible!" she squealed.

"Rose," I interjected, "You do realize that you'll NEVER be able to drive with the top down, on account of the constant downpour here, right?"

"Don't rain on my parade, Bella."

"Ha," I could barely contain my mirth at her witty pun.

Alice and Rose passed notes all through English, occasionally looping me in (the page was mostly a cartoon drawing of three female stick figures zipping along -with wavy lines indicating high speeds- in a convertible), but since I sat on the next row over from them, it wasn't as easy for me to pass notes under the eagle eye of Mrs. Bundy, or Ted as we sometimes called her (a tribute to the serial killer who was probably a lot more fun than our English teacher). She had caught me passing notes to Alice at the beginning of the school year, which resulted in me being drafted onto the Debate Team. In addition to sucking the life out of Shakespeare and Fitzgerald, Ted also "coached" the school Debate Team. I hadn't even known such a thing existed until my "punishment," which Alice incidentally escaped due to the fact that she was already secretly a team alternate.

While the girls scribbled fiercely about Rose's good fortune, I tried to tune out Eric as he droned through his reading of A Midsummer Night's Dream. Drone drone drone. No inflection whatsoever. And he kept stumbling over the most beautiful phrases. It was absolutely sadistic of Ted to let him go on and on. I started fuming about it. We were assigned the reading for homework, but Ted was such an ineffectual teacher that her method was to just pick on a few people to read the same piece of the assignment over again out loud in class. I glared at Ted for a few moments and forced my mind wander to the upcoming Debate Tournament. It wouldn't do for me to be caught shooting daggers at her.

Alice had joined the Debate Team because Jazz was the team captain. "There's a Debate Team?" I had asked her. "And it actually has a captain?" At my previous schools, I had stayed as far away from extra-curricular activities as possible.

"Yeah, and despite Ted's coaching- and I use the term so loosely that it practically unravels- our school has won Regionals for the past two years. Last year we came in second in State." Alice didn't have to voice the underlying implication that the success of the team rested solely on Jazz's broad and capable shoulders.

"And what do you do?"

"Well, I'm just an alternate. Mostly I do research for the topics. There are several possible resolutions to debate. You don't know which one you'll have to argue til you get there. So the whole team researches the topics and makes note cards for both the For side of the argument and the Against side. Most of the team meetings are just a bunch of us in the library pouring over magazine articles and blogs and making notes." We were stopped in a crush in the hallway as she continued. "Then we go for pizza or something."

"So it's just research and pizza? That's not so bad." I was beginning to feel relieved.

"Yeah, I know Ted's been looking for more girls to pad out the team. It's supposed to be about 50-50 girls and guys, but last year's team had a BUNCH of senior girls who've graduated and left us lop-sided."

"So my punishment is really just a means to Ted's end?"

"Ugh, Bella. Do NOT mention Ted's end." We both laughed like fools and scrunched our noses as the unwelcome image of Ted's broad backside forced its way into our silly heads.

I snickered to myself as I let the memory wash over me. Ted glared, and I was brought back to reality and Eric's excruciating monotone. That was when she cut him off. "Miss Swan, Would you like to continue the rest of the Act, please?"

Crap. I wasn't even following. I tried desperately to remember the last words that had scrambled out of Eric's mouth, and I strained my eyes toward Mike's book in front of me. He looked over his shoulder and lifted his book with his finger pointing at the spot that I needed to pick up. Good old helpful Mike. I thumbed through a couple of pages as quickly as I could and began my reading.

At lunch Alice said "You could probably get out of debate if you joined in one of the other competitions."

"Huh?" I was looking at the very sad french fries behind the greasy plexiglass partition in the cafeteria line. I grabbed yoghurt and a banana and one of those giant oatmeal cookies.

"They have a bunch of events. Not just debates. You could read poetry or do a monologue."  
Alice was delicately selecting the least wilted spinach leaves in the salad bar with the cumbersome plastic tongs.

I had to prompt her for more information because my brain was so fully focused on walking while NOT dropping my tray that I couldn't really comprehend what she was on about. She explained that these competitions had a variety of Public Speaking type categories. It all sounded equally stage-fright inducing to me. I argued that Ted would never allow me out of the Debate Team anyway, but Alice countered that I could remain an alternate on the Debate Team, continuing my safe and cozy research and pizza routine and still enter into other competitions that our school didn't have enough participants in. I didn't see the point.

"Alice, I don't WANT to compete."

"Bella," she articulated my name as I had done hers. "It looks great on your college application."

"Debate Team is enough for my college applications."

She just sighed at me. "You read so well, though. I think you could win in the poetry interpretation or whatever it is. The coach for that one is the drama teacher, so you don't have to deal with Ted. You're doing all this work for Debate, and you're never going to get any glory out of it unless three people are sick on the competition day and we duct tape you to a podium to make you fulfill your role as alternate in an actual meet. You'll have to go to the competition anyway, and you'll be bored stiff watching the debates for six solid hours. You could break up the monotony by doing your own thing. Last year I tagged along to one of the meets, and I wandered into the poetry thing. That's how I know about it. Even what you read in English this morning with no prep at all would have got you a gold medal." I let her go on and on as I pushed my yoghurt around in its little plastic tub.

I was unconvinced because I was perfectly content as an alternate on the Debate Team. I actually enjoyed the research parties, or 'team meetings' as they were officially known. Ted only ever stuck around long enough to make sure everyone showed up; then she left us unattended in the library to do our thing. I was sure that there had to be a rule in place about students not being left on school grounds unattended after hours, but who was I point that out?

And we weren't there to screw around. The team really wanted to win, and Jazz kept things rolling. The rustling of papers, clacking of keyboards, and scratching of pens was regularly punctuated by topic discussion. We bounced possible pros and cons off of each other amiably. It was all business.

When my eyes grew weary of scanning text, I would watch Alice watching Jazz. That same electricity always radiated from her when he was in the vicinity. She hardly ever spoke directly to him, and when she did, her voice was uncharacteristically soft. He was always dating someone new. Not that he had a rep as a player, but it seemed that a few weeks or a month after the rumors would fly that he was dating someone, the rumors would begin to fly that he had broken it off.

Once I heard Katie crying in the locker room as I changed for gym. She was lamenting to her sister cheerleaders that Jazz had asked to "just be friends." I had felt bad for her for a moment because I'd almost gotten used to seeing them holding hands in the hallway.

But then I thought of Alice. Every time Jazz ended up single again, I harbored a hope that he finally had eyes for her. Then again, I dreaded the chance that she'd be crying on my shoulder a month later. Guys really suck.

"Earth to Bella." Alice was waving at me across the lunch table. I looked up from my empty yoghurt cup and smiled apologetically at her. "You are such a space cadet."

"Sorry." I struggled for a moment to remember what Alice had been saying. "I don't know about the poetry thing."

"What poetry thing?" Rose slid into the chair next to me along with a couple of other perfectly proportioned girls in green pleated mini skirts.

"Tell Bella to do poetry at the upcoming meet," Alice instructed.

"Oh. Totally, B. I do the monologue competitions, and it's a piece of cake. The other schools in our region are so under-represented outside of the One Act Play and Debate."

"I thought you were in the play, Rose."

"I am." She may as well have just said "duh."

"How can you do both?" my mind was reeling at how packed with awards and activities and  
commendations Rose's college applications must be.

"The drama categories are staggered," she answered offhandedly as though it were obvious.  
"You should totally do it."

I suddenly felt like I wouldn't hear the end of this, and against my better judgment, I agreed to let Rose drag me to the drama teacher for details after school. I carefully avoided agreeing to anything beyond that, though.

I got through the rest of my day and walked anxiously with Rose to the theatre room. "Geez, don't be nervous," she scolded as I hesitated at the door.

And I needn't have been nervous. The drama teacher was really sweet. He just handed me a packet and said he'd love to have me represent the school. I wondered how he could say that without actually hearing me read something first, but I didn't want to question it in case that reminded him to make me audition.

After fifteen minutes, I had somehow been signed up for the meet that was two weeks away, and I had a folder with guidelines on how to read, how long the pieces had to be, what content was considered in appropriate, how to hold the pages, what to wear, what hand gestures would get me disqualified, etc. It seemed like a lot, but it all came at me too quickly for me to do anything about it.

I was wracking my brain on the drive out to Billy's to come up with three poems for the three different categories I needed to be prepared for. Like with the debates, we couldn't know which theme we'd be reading until competition time. The three themes seemed really loose and open to interpretation, which was good in a way: Romance, Social Commentary, and Loss. Then again, that left a hell of a lot of room for error.

I was pulling into Billy's driveway before I even realized I was on the reservation. I really was a bit of a space cadet lately. I waved at Jake who was at the side of the house chopping wood for the cook-out. He smiled his dazzling bright white smile that seemed to light up the entire overcast yard. I couldn't help but smile back as I slid out of the truck and ambled up to him.

"Hey Bells!" He pulled me into a tight hug. "I haven't seen you in ages."

"Ugh! Jake you're all sweaty!" I tried in vain to push away from him, but I couldn't budge an inch until he let go. I thought to myself that he had grown at least yard since the last time I saw him. Well, maybe a few inches, anyway.

"Sorry." He didn't look sorry.

"I guess I'm bound to get a bit grimy this evening anyway." I pointed at the giant pile of wood behind him. "It looks like we'll have a big fire."

"Dad's birthday only comes once a year!" He let the axe dangle carelessly in his left hand while he stood there smiling at me. I shifted my weight from foot to foot after a few moments of his scrutiny. I thought of Jake as a brother, but lately I began to suspect he had a different point of view.

He reached out and took the keys that were still in my hand, letting his fingers linger against mine longer than necessary. "Let me back the truck over here to load up."

"Huh?"

He laughed at me as he slammed the axe into the chopping block. "It's supposed to be clear tonight, so we're having the party on the beach. Some of the guys are out there setting up."  
I looked around at the yard behind the house and noticed the lack of picnic table, food, party supplies, and people. "Oh."

Jake maneuvered my truck into position almost effortlessly. I scowled at his broad chest and amazing triceps that didn't even seem to notice the lack of power steering. Then he loaded the wood into the bed in record time. I stood gawking at him the whole time. He really was nice to look at, even if I didn't like him THAT way. I think he noticed me watching him because he smiled almost devilishly before wiping his massive dusty hands across the chest of his clinging, sweaty white tee-shirt and leading me to the passenger door of my truck.

"I'm driving!" I insisted when I realized what he was doing.

"Bells, there is no way you can handle the truck with all this extra weight. Just relax." He actually kind of laughed at me as I conceded and huffed into the cab.

The beach was already crowded and a few small fires were already lit, but apparently they were waiting for the wood we were bringing for the cooking because, according to Jake, it "makes everything taste like a special occasion."

Charlie pulled up in his cruiser just after Jake and his friends finished unloading the wood. He threw an arm over my shoulder and pulled me into half a hug as his silent greeting. I patted the hand on my shoulder to let him know I'd missed him, and we strolled over to the biggest bonfire where Billy was presiding over a gaggle of well-wishers in a blue and white plastic lawn chair.  
The evening was pleasant, if nippy, and the company was amiable, even though it seemed to take forever to get the food cooked. At least seven people were standing over the cooking pit with burgers or corn cobs or potatoes or hot dogs. I chatted with Billy and Jake and Leah and Quil and Embry, but I was getting tired by the time food was served. The air was damp with sea spray because the wind had picked up, and my eyes were scratchy from the aromatic smoke that whipped around in a swirl that constantly changed directions. I ate as close to the fire as I could in a vain effort to keep the chill at bay, and I became impatient to break away to Alice's as soon as I reasonably could.

At around nine, the folks with small kids were leaving, and I thought I could drift away with a little crowd. I reminded Charlie I'd be at Alice's for the weekend, and I promised to call him if we decided to go anywhere. I hugged Billy and then Jake and then Jake's friends and then Jake again. I laughed and accused him of just wanting to feel me up, and he only tossed his head to one side as if to say "Of course I do."

The moon was scuttling in and out of the clouds as I drove the familiar roads back into Forks. I was yawning widely and almost didn't see her as I turned onto Alice's street, but she was biking on the edge of the road, and I screeched to a stop, which made her teeter perilously for a moment before she planted her feet on the ground to stop.

"Sheesh Bella!"

"Sorry!" I was hopping out of the truck to help her load her bike into the back.

"It's only two blocks," she protested, but got in the truck anyway. The night had turned quite cold. She proceeded to tell me she had popped out to the store for some cookie dough so we could bake. I nodded understandingly. She had gone because Jazz was working.

I was surprised to see William's battered Suburban in the driveway when I pulled up to her house. He usually left early on his little expeditions. But I didn't have time to muse because Alice was pumping me for information.

"Did you get it out of her?"

"Hunh? Who? What?"

"Rose! Tyler. The date."

"Oh," I had completely forgotten to ask Rose for details while we were going to and from our meeting with the drama teacher. "No. It slipped my mind."

"Ugh! Now we have to wait for her to get here," Alice was a little miffed, but her spirit remained unbroken as she bounded out of the truck and into the house with her bag. I followed, leaving the bike in the truck; we could deal with it tomorrow.

Alice was already in the kitchen washing her hands by the time I macheted my way through the jungle in the front room of the house. Honestly, the only room in the house that wasn't crammed with plants was Alice's room. Even the bathroom had enormous ferns hanging in front of the window.

She cut open the tube of sugar cookie dough and slapped it onto the wood countertop while I pulled up a bar stool to watch. She was clearly bubbling over with Jazz-induced buoyancy, and I was worn out, so I figured I'd just pull up a barstool and let her have at the baking on her own.

William walked into the kitchen with a small backpack slung over his shoulder and said "Alice, my little jewel!" as always and then greeted me with the usual surprised expression on his handsome face. It was difficult to guess how old William was. His features looked about twenty-five at most, but his eyes were at least forty. And he was absolutely stunning to look at. I mean drop-dead, mouth-agape, eyes-popping-out gorgeous. He could have been a model.

He was tall and graceful, even in his grimy jeans and funky flannel shirt. His black hair was slightly shaggy in a careless I've-just-had-loads-of-smoldering-sex kind of way, and his lips were like perfect red invitations to something deliciously sinful. Every time I ever saw him, which was only about five times in the last year that I had known Alice, he took my breath away. But although I got a little thrill sparkling down my spine just looking at him, I had never been compelled to get close or shake his hand or even fantasize about the physical attraction. It was like I could SEE he was beautiful- anyone could see that- but either because he was so much older than me, or because he was practically my best friend's dad, or because he was such an introverted science geek kind of man, I never felt like he could be as good on the inside as he was on the outside.

I felt guilty about this impression, of course. He clearly doted on Alice and supported her in everything. Still, there was SOMETHING. Like now, he always seemed a little surprised to find anyone besides Alice in the house. The first time I ever met him, in fact, he had looked at me so strangely. At first he was just surprised, which was normal on finding someone in your own house when you weren't expecting anyone out of the ordinary. But then his face had turned really blank for a moment. I remembered that he had an empty flower pot in his hand at the time, and in that moment after laying eyes on me, he sunk all of his fingers into the dirt, almost aggressively, like he was attacking the soil. And then his eyes were glazed over in sadness. Deep mournful regret. It had sent a chill down my spine. I had half-heartedly held my hand out in greeting when Alice introduced me to him, but after a timeless hesitation, he simply pulled his dirt-covered fingertips out of the pot and grimaced at me. That was his non-verbal and completely unconvincing way of saying "I'd shake your hand, but alas, my fingers are too dirty."

I was reminded of that agonized look again when he saw me watching Alice make cookies. Then he wrinkled his nose and took a step backward as though he had been completely overwhelmed by skunk or something equally foul smelling. I reacted by sniffing at my sleeve. It smelled smoky and briny from the beach barbeque. I figured that maybe the aroma was stronger than I could detect because I'd been out in it for the last few hours. But William was looking at me strangely too. Alice didn't seem to notice as she attacked the sheet of dough with her cookie cutters. But I realized he was just staring with a look of horror on his beautiful face. I was mesmerized by him.

Surely we weren't locked in each other's gaze for more than five seconds, but everything felt slowed down to me in that moment. I almost felt like something so profound was happening that I was floating above myself and witnessing it as a spectator.

But nothing was different. Alice was still dancing and making cookies. I was still slightly chilled from the night air. William was still inhumanly gorgeous and devoid of people skills. That was all it was. He was just lost in his own thoughts as I myself had been so much lately, so how could I let it get to me?

When he broke the trance to steal a glance at Alice, I shook my head a little and hugged my arms to stave off a shiver. He quickly muttered his goodbye and was out the door before I could even register that he was gone. I refused to let myself believe he had moved any faster than normal, though. I was just tired from the long, long day.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Dear readers, thanks for your patience with me. I'm throwing this chapter up even though it's a short one because everyone wants to know whether Edward will feature in this story or not. Short answer: Of course he will!

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Three: House Call

I was half asleep by the time Rose showed up. I stayed awake long enough to gather that Tyler had dropped her off and that she was NEVER AGAIN going out with him. That was when I let sleep take me.

On Saturday morning, I was awakened by a knock at the door. Alice, Rose and I were each in a sleeping bag on top of Alice's enormous bed. Rose had her eye mask on, and didn't stir. Alice sat up at the second percussion and grumbled. I waited til I heard her bare feet padding through the hallway and then got out of bed to go to the bathroom. I heard voices in the kitchen after I had flushed, so I brushed my teeth quickly and went out to see if everything way okay.

Dr. Cullen was the last person I expected to find in Alice's kitchen.

I knew he was a cousin of William's. Or maybe Mrs. Cullen was the cousin. I was a bit fuzzy on the connection. But the two times Alice had gone with me to the emergency room, she had chatted amiably with the handsome doctor and introduced me warmly.

He was absolutely the nicest doctor I had ever had, and it didn't hurt that he was also the best looking man in Forks.

If William was gorgeous (and he was), Dr. Carlisle Cullen was indescribable. From his lustrous halo of golden hair to his broad shoulders that could fill out a Superman costume without any padding, to his perfect smooth careful fingertips, he was incredible.

And sometimes there was a hint of a scent about him that drew me right in. It drove me a little insane. It almost wasn't cologne, but it clearly had to be. No one could just smell like that. Plus, though I'd met him a few times he only smelled delicious a couple of those times. To be perfectly honest, the scent was more attractive to me than even his movie star smile and glittery light golden-brown eyes.

He smiled at me as I entered the room. If I had been groggy and half asleep a moment ago,  
I was wide awake now. Alice was making coffee.

"Good morning, Bella. Sorry to wake you."

"Morning, Dr. Cullen." My voice sounded like frogs.

His perfect forehead crinkled in concern as I cleared my throat. "Did you get a bit chilled last night?"

Now that he mentioned it, my throat did feel a bit rough. He walked over to the sink and washed his hands. I saw massive amounts of steam rising from the water, and I wondered how he could stand so much heat. Then I realized I might be feverish and it could just be a lot colder in the room than I thought.

He dried his fingertips and pressed his warm fingertips gently into the sides of my neck. I inhaled and was touched by a hint of that aroma I loved so much. I breathed more deeply and my mouth watered a little. Or maybe that was just because he was prodding at my lymph nodes.

"Hmm," he said, in a very doctorly way. I opened my eyes and noticed Alice watching me from my periphery. I had once made the mistake of telling her how good he smelled.

But it wasn't really him, I thought. The scent was just on him. Attached to him a little. Lingering from some previous contact with it. Maybe it's just the fabric softener he uses. Or a trace of his wife's perfume.

"I think you're on the verge on an infection, Bella. Take Tylenol and drink plenty of fluids this weekend. If you start feeling bad, give me a call and I'll start you on antibiotics before this knocks you out." He was looking into my eyes, but without his hands near my face any more, I had lost the thread of that beautiful smell.

"Is anything bad going around?" I asked tentatively. My voice really did have a bit of a rasp to it.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Have you had a flu shot?"

"No," I looked down. Charlie had nagged me about that.

"Lots of tea, Bella." His voice was like a love song played softly on a cello.

He sat at the counter across from me as we waited for the coffee to drip through the machine. Alice went to brush her teeth, and I was feeling a little weary. And also uncomfortable. I felt like I needed to hostess it up a bit while Alice was out of the room, but I had no idea what to say.  
I was relieved when Dr. Cullen broke the silence. "My wife's brother will be starting school with you on Monday."

It took me a minute to catch up in my head. Alice had told me about her de facto cousin Edward who lived with his sister Esme Cullen and the hunky doctor. But he had anemia or something. There was some reason why he was home-schooled. I couldn't remember the reason. But then Alice returned.

"Edward's coming to school?!" It didn't take much to get Alice excited.

"Yes. He needs to be around people his own age, I think." Dr. Cullen smiled, so we nodded in agreement.

"Yay! I haven't seen him since last Christmas. He's not still sick, then?" She was bubbling with enthusiasm now.

"He might have to miss school now and then, but for the most part he'll do fine." I felt my lips tingle a little when Dr. Cullen lifted his hands to take a mug of hot coffee from Alice and I caught a faint drift of that delicious aroma.

"That's so awesome. I thought he would have graduated by now though, I thought he was way older than me, but I guess I just got that impression because he's so tall. I bet he's even taller now." she was gushing at hummingbird speed, and she hadn't even had a sip of coffee yet. "Bella!" I jumped when she practically yelled my name. "You won't be the new kid any more!"

"I've been there a year, Alice. There are a whole flock of freshmen who are newer than me."

"But they're not in our class." I shrugged. She had a point.

She made a face after taking a sip from her mug. I wasn't going to say anything, but it was pretty bad. I hadn't noticed Dr. Cullen do anything more than sniff it and shift the cup from hand to hand, either. Alice took a small pitcher, filled it halfway with milk, and popped it into the microwave. I had taught her the trick of taking the chill off the milk before turning a nice cup of hot coffee into a luke-warm mess.

"Well, I should be going." Dr. Cullen rose. "Be sure to call me if you start to feel anything other than better, Bella," he smiled at me. His teeth could be used as flashbulbs by the paparazzi.  
I might have drooled just a little, and I didn't even manage to say goodbye properly before Alice was walking him to the door. When she came back I was finally struck by the strangeness of a 10am house call on a Saturday when no one had called a doctor. I had to ask, "Did he come by for any reason?"

Alice took the milk out of the microwave and added a liberal amount to her coffee. "He said William had asked him to drop in on us on his way to the hospital."

"Why?"

"No idea." She took a cookie from the plate of leftovers from the night before.

"Isn't that weird?" William had left us here alone at least twenty times without even so much as phoning to make sure we hadn't burned the house down.

Alice looked at me. She appeared to be thinking. "Yeah, but maybe Carlisle and William had been talking recently because Edward's coming to school, and I'm in school, and so William mentioned he'd be out of town and asked Carlisle to stop by."

It seemed like a stretch. A kind of involved and convoluted stretch. But once again I just shrugged. And took a cookie.


	4. Chapter 4

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Four: Thirst

Saturday was rainy, and I felt a bit crap, so I put on a sweatshirt and dragged my sleeping bag into Alice's living room to watch movies while Alice and Rose gave each other pedicures. We got the story about Tyler.

"He asked me to go with him on a triple date with Mac and Lauren and Rob and Kris." I raised my eyebrow knowingly at Alice. I had long suspected that Rose had been flirting with Emmet "Mac" McCarty.

"Don't call him Mac, Rose." Alice scolded. "It makes him sound like a burger."

"He kind of is," Rose smiled. "Beefy and delicious."

We all laughed, but to be honest, I didn't understand why Rose and Emmett weren't already together. I'd seen him looking at her at pep rallies. He didn't just ogle her bouncing chest like the rest of the football team. He always watched her hair swirl in platinum ribbons. He'd lick his lips when a strand got stuck in her lip-gloss and she moved her hand up to pull it away. He smiled when she smiled, and he frowned when her forehead knitted in concentration when the squad was climbing into the pyramid.

He clearly worshipped her.

And then there was Rose: staring at him while he practiced with the team, fretting near the Gatorade table when he was sprawled on the bench with an ice pack, packing his "Spirit Box" with home made cookies before every home game.

Smitten.

It was silly.

They never even spoke to each other. Each of them was too insane over the other to be able to make human conversation. Yet, here she sat, on Alice's sofa with a tiny bottle of Poolside Pink in one hand and Alice's tiny foot in the other, gushing about Emmett's tastiness. I rolled my eyes to myself. She was all talk.

Apparently Tyler had been all hands, and it had caused upheaval in the movie theatre. After forty-five minutes of slapping his gropey hands away, Rose had retreated into the lobby in a huff, which had caused Emmett to follow (with his irritated date in tow), which had caused Tyler to follow. The four of them had stood outside the cinema in uncomfortable silence in the cold breeze until Kris and Rob had come up for air long enough to realize they were making out in an empty row. They'd finally gone out to find their friends standing in an awkward square on the front sidewalk.

Rose HAD wanted to make out with Tyler (just for practice- ew), until his clammy palms and Skittle breath turned her off. Alice didn't seem surprised that Tyler had turned out to be a total dud.

"I can't believe you actually considered kissing him, Rose. His lips kind of look like they'd be better suited to an eel than a guy." Alice was harsh, but she was also completely right.

Rose shuddered in agreement, and I sneezed. My head was beginning to feel huge.

"Rose, you should ask Emmett out," I blurted. I don't know why I said it. Rose hated that kind of butting in, but in that moment, it seemed silly to me that the two of them were stuck in this seemingly never-ending dance around the obvious. It wasn't like Jazz and Alice. That was apparently still one-sided.

For now.

Rose gave me a withering glare, but Alice smiled. How has Jazz not noticed Alice? She's freaking gorgeous. Maybe not in the perfect, bombshell cheerleader way that Rose is gorgeous, but in a delicate, hand-carved, idol of a deity kind of way. Alice was ephemerally lovely while Rose was frankly beautiful.

And then there was me. Brown hair, brown eyes, white skin, red nose (currently, anyway). I was a real treat to behold. I sighed and pulled my head out of the silent pity party. What did I need with allure when I had so much wonderful phlegm building up in my head?

By four in the afternoon, I had gone to bed in Alice's room, and Alice had called Dr. Cullen. He said he'd drop by with antibiotics on his way home. I was in no spirit to argue over the fuss by then. I even let Alice and Rose make themselves feel all Florence Nightingale by bringing me cups of tea.

I was incredibly surprised to wake up in the hospital.

I opened my eyes to see a feeble whiteness shining through the window onto the white blinds and the pale greenish wall. I smelled coffee.

I looked toward the foot of the bed where Charlie sat reading the newspaper and sipping from a white styrofoam cup. I hated styrofoam cups.

"Hey dad." My throat felt raw and evil, and my voice was a raspy whisper. Even so, Charlie looked up and then stood up to walk closer to me.

"Hi, kiddo. How'ya feeling?"

I frowned and started moving all my limbs around to see what I had broken this time to land myself in this horrible bed. I had a lot of generic pain, but no specific pain other than in my throat and the upper part of my chest. No bones seemed to be broken.

"You thirsty?"

I was, and I nodded, so Charlie uncapped a bottle of water and held it to my lips. I swallowed a sip and then gasped as cold water trickled down my chin and neck. Swallowing hurt like hell, and I had reflexively stopped swallowing after the first drops slid down my throat. I began spluttering and coughing while Charlie dropped the bottle and began flailing his arms around helplessly. I thought I was going to choke to death because once I had started coughing, I couldn't stop. Pain seared through my chest and phlegm burned me as it ripped upward toward my throat. I couldn't inhale.

Suddenly, Strong hands were pulling me forward and leaning me over while something blew across my face. I heard a machine going crazy in the background, and I heard my raspy breathing catch and then slow.

My eyes were watering so much that I couldn't even see Charlie any more, but I knew Dr. Cullen was there because of the strong hands and hint of deliciousness that overtook my senses.

I felt a tissue brush across my eyes, and I saw a nurse and the gorgeous doctor standing in front of Charlie, who looked like he had just run over his own puppy. I tried to tell him it was okay, but my voice still didn't work. Dr. Cullen seemed to read my mind and turned to calm Charlie down.

"We brought you some flowers!" Alice's voice chimed like bells on Christmas morning, breaking through the tension in the room. The nurse retreated, and I saw Rose carrying a balloon and Alice with a vase full of daffodils. I smiled weakly, having learned my lesson about trying to talk.

Once he was satisfied that I was breathing relatively normally, Charlie said he needed to get back to work, but he'd check on me later, which confused me. He never worked on Sundays. I waved to him though, and he grimaced as he shuffled through the door.

Dr. Cullen brought a flashlight to my face and asked me to open my mouth. I complied, feeling a little weird about Alice and Rose looking on. But he seemed to only need a quick glance at my throat before he was satisfied. He wrote something on the clipboard that was hanging at the foot of my bed and said, "I'm going to change your medicine a little bit, Bella. You'll need to tell us right away if you start to feel nauseous."

I raised my eyebrows and shrugged at him, and he said "I can read lips." He smiled and winked at me and walked to the door.

"Oh Carlisle," Alice piped up before he opened the door, "Edward said he was waiting in your office for you."

Dr. Cullen nodded and closed the door silently behind him.

"Bella, you look like shit." Rose could be so sweet, honestly. Alice swatted at her arm. "You're lucky you didn't spread your nasty cooties to us." Alice slapped her a little harder the second time.

"We brought you your homework, but you don't really look up for it yet," Alice lifted a couple of books out of her bag. "I could ask Eric Yorkie to come in and read the English assignment to you."

I couldn't help myself then. I laughed and got caught up in another coughing fit. I think I scared the hell out of the girls because Rose ran out of the room yelling for a nurse while Alice seemed to understand my frantic hand gestures meaning I needed a little help to lean forward. By the time the nurse came back, I was breathing again. She told me to keep quiet until she came back with my new medications.

"I'm so sorry, Bella..." I could tell Alice was going to launch into a frantic spout of apologies, so I shushed her with a wave of my hand.

I carefully whispered the two questions pressing on my consciousness. "What happened? What day is it?"

"It's Tuesday afternoon. You've got pneumonia." Rose gave me the blunt version very succinctly.

"How?" I mouthed and gestured with my palms upward. How the hell did I come down with pneumonia?

"Carlisle said it was probably a combination of a bacterial infection, the cold damp air, and general tiredness. You have seemed a bit worn out lately." Alice was petting my shin through the scratchy blanket; I could only assume it was meant to be a soothing action.

I sighed, which made a horrible gurgling noise in my chest, and the nurse came in with a syringe, which almost made me pass out on site. Alice and Rose both knew about my needle-phobia and each of them grabbed one of my flailing arms as I squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as they would go.

"Calm down, sweetie. I'm not going to stick you," the nurse was totally unconcerned with my panic. What a sweet old lady. Ugh. She injected whatever it was into the tube that I was trying to ignore. She addressed Rose and Alice on her way out of the room. "She's going to be sleepy in a few minutes. Don't wear her out."

"We can't stay too long anyway," Rose promissed her. When I made sad puppy dog eyes because my friends would be abandoning me she added, "we hitched a ride with Edward, and I don't want him to have a fit about how long it takes to get to my house from here."

I sighed. Rose did live on the 'far side' of town. It never bothered me that I was the girls' perpetual taxi service throughout all of Greater Forks because no trip I ever made was more than four miles in any direction, unless we were driving out to the beach or to Port Angeles. But for all I knew, my friends might have had a tough time getting a ride from the new guy, despite his familial connection to Alice.

In the end, I didn't have time to be either worn out by or saddened by the shortness of the visit because I was almost instantly sleepy. And my throat stopped hurting. And the faint beeping off in the corner was a tinny little echo.

I had strange dreams while I was drugged out of my head. I felt like ghosts were walking in and out of the room around me, gliding silently, filling my head with disembodied whispers.

In one dream I heard hushed voices:

"It doesn't make any sense."

"I think it has something to do with Edward."

"But that means there will be seven of us. SEVEN. William, they're never going to allow it... I'm not going to allow it. This is insane."

"I know. I know. I wish it was different, but every time I look at her, it's all I see. Every single time."

"What about the other night?"

"That wasn't anything to do with what I saw. It was only what I smelled."

Then I heard a groan. Maybe that had come from me. Then I slept soundly a while longer.

The next thing I remember was a gasp. A horrified gasp that really scared my blood into ice. It was the most mournful, lost, and melancholy noise I had ever heard. It shook me from my bones to my flesh, and my eyes shot open into the darkness. My skin was covered in goose bumps, and I was gasping at the air around me- no longer because I couldn't breathe but because the room was saturated with the most delicious essence I had ever smelled in my life. Instinctively my lungs clutched at it. My lips ached for every molecule of it that lingered heavily over the normal antiseptic air of the hospital. My tongue tried to touch it in the darkness.

And then the door opened, and I saw Dr. Cullen framed in the light from the hallway. His face was a morbid mask of shock as his eyes met mine. My body was aching for the aroma that was quickly dissipating all around me now that the door was open. I realized I had been leaning forward, every muscle tense with desire, and I fell back against the pillows. I must have had a look of anguish on my face before my heavy eyelids closed again because Dr. Cullen really looked sorry for me. As I drifted off again, I thought I heard him say, "Oh. My poor boy."


	5. Chapter 5

a/n Woah dudes! I had to make a couple of corrections in this chapter. Sorry for previous spelling nightmares.

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Five: Storm

By Friday afternoon I was restless from five nights in the hospital. I was still exhausted, but I coughed less violently and less often. And my fever had been gone since the night before, so I had enough energy to walk around the little room a bit and stare out the window at the cars that drifted lazily in and out of the driveway to the parking lot. Occasionally a car would rush; wheels would squeak on the turn toward the emergency entrance. Once, an ambulance pulled in with its lights flashing while the rain pelted at the windows. I knew that whoever was in the back of the ambulance had been in a traffic accident, and I worried about all my friends who'd be getting out of school soon only to face the increasingly angry sounding sleet and slick roads.

Then my thoughts just turned to impatience as I waited for Alice and Rose to pay their afternoon visit. I had even read a little Shakespeare earlier in the day, so I would be glad to hear the day's gossip from them: what happened in English, who did what at lunch...

A nurse came in while I was sitting near the window and scolded me for being out of bed. I climbed back between the overly crispy sheets and pulled the blanket up around my neck.  
I hadn't realized I was a bit cold.

Dr. Cullen came in just past three o'clock with a large travel mug that had a thin trail of steam wafting out of the hole in the top. He smiled at seeing me awake and he greeted me warmly. I couldn't help by smile back. I croaked out a little hello without coughing; my voice was coming back despite my still-raw throat. He stood at the foot of my bed for a moment, glancing over the clipboard hanging there and then walked to my side. "I just stopped in to say hello before I head home for the day."

I thanked him.

"I'm going to keep you here tonight, but it looks like you can go home tomorrow, as long as you promise to keep resting." My eyes must have brightened because he chuckled lightly. He handed me the mug, but I didn't reach out for it at first. "I thought you might like some tea. Cinnamon. I think it will feel good on your throat, and it should keep you warm. William prepares the cinnamon bark himself and wanted me to give it to you. He left a packet for you to take home."

I took the warm mug and inhaled the aromatic steam. The scent was comforting, and.. something else. I felt a tug on my memory as I inhaled. Then I realized I was just smelling that familiar allure that wafted lightly around Dr. Cullen. "Tell him I said thanks." I smiled, and the doctor absentmindedly patted my shin as he turned to leave.

I don't know why I was compelled to say the next words that came out of my mouth, "I'm going to miss that scent when I go home."

He turned with a bemused confusion on his forehead. "What scent?" I saw his nostrils flare a little. "Most people despise the smell of hospitals."

I laughed a little and almost coughed, so I quickly composed myself. "No, I mean your cologne or whatever. Well, it's not perfumey, and you're not always wearing it, but the whole room smelled so good at one point when I was sleeping, and sometimes I get a hint of it on your shirt or something..." I trailed off, self-conscious at the way his mouth turned down into a thoughtful frown on one side.

"I don't wear any cologne, Bella. I have to be careful of patients' possible allergies."

He took a step closer to me as though he wanted me to comment on the intelligence he had just shared.

"Oh, well, I thought about that, you know, like maybe it was a trace of your wife's perfume or fabric softener or something, but it's such a masculine kind of smell..." I trailed off again, having surprised myself by suddenly voicing something that only my subconscious had heretofore realized. Definitely it was a masculine smell.

Dr. Cullen held his sleeve toward me. "Are you sure it's me?"

I sniffed, my senses were desperate to pick up on the intoxicating essence that filled me with warmth and comfort and desire. If it was there, it was only very faint and elusive. My tongue curled inside my mouth as I tried to pinpoint any fine hint of the sexy deliciousness. The cinnamon tea was overwhelming me a bit as I concentrated with all my might on the air flowing through my nostrils. Dr. Cullen indeed smelled nice, but as I let my nose linger an inch from the exposed perfect skin of his wrist, I knew that I was barking up the wrong tree.

"No," I sighed, somewhat disappointed. "I guess it isn't you." He lowered his arm as I leaned back again against my pillows. "But sometimes it floats around you a little." I said the last part to myself, in a whisper, but somehow he seemed to hear me.

"When was it that you said the room was filled with it? Were you just overwhelmed by the flowers perhaps?" He pointed at the sunny daffodils and daisies on the small table by the door. I looked at the flowers, thinking about his question.

"Not flowers. Earthy and warm and spiced like elegantly aromatic food but also sweet like spun sugar intoxicating like the hot bouquet that wafts off of the spiced rum Renee used to make for her Christmas parties... And so heavy against my palate that it practically has a flavor. It tastes like..." I was concentrating to capture the ephemeral quality of the scent into words, and my rambled musing came out in a faint murmur. I couldn't come up with any more metaphor. But my imperfect memory COULD almost taste the scent at the back of my throat, and my mouth watered a little.

Dr. Cullen cocked his head to one side while contemplating me. "You smelled it really strongly once?"

I looked into his face, and I could practically feel my eyes light up as I thought about that sensation, and the memory came back. "Right before you checked in on me one night when my fever was still pretty high. The smell kind of woke me up and I tried to capture it- memorize it- or even just make sure it was real... then you opened the door and it started evaporating into the generic hospital stink from the hallway. And after I saw you there I just went back to sleep."

His eyes were heavy with deep thought for a moment, and then he turned his visage into a beautiful portrait of calm assurance. "I'll have a look in the laundry room when I get home and let you know about the fabric softener." He smiled his gentle doctor smile at me. "Drink the tea while it's hot, and if you like it, I'll be sure to send the rest home with you." And then he was out the door.

I mused on his odd reaction for a while as I stared at the clock, quietly tabulating the amount of time it would take for Alice to bike home before Rose could pick her up in her mom's Toyota and drive to the hospital to see me. I figured I had at least fifteen minutes to wait. If the weather had been better, maybe ten. Then again, maybe Alice couldn't bike today because of the sleet. I sighed and stared into the soggy sky.

As I gazed out the window, my attention was captivated by a man walking across the lawn in front of the main hospital entrance. He wasn't tall, but he had a majestic air that made him appear a little larger than life. His dirty blond hair whipped around his face in the wind, and he must have been soaked through with the frozen rain, but he didn't seem to notice.

He wore low-slung jeans that wouldn't have looked any better on a catwalk model than they looked on him, and his damp grey tee-shirt clung to his chest beneath his soft looking red leather jacket. He walked so purposefully but slowly, and he almost seemed caught up in his own little bubble of time where everything was technicolor and slow-motion. I could see every detail of his muscular torso through his tee-shirt, and I could see his tongue drag a raindrop off of his lip. I could see his pitch black irises scanning the parking lot in front of him as he moved stealthily like a crocodile preparing to pounce on a gazelle that drank on the arid bank of the Nile. I could see his nostrils flare on his fearsomely beautiful face.

And then I saw the little blue Toyota curve into the driveway and I got excited about getting to talk to Rose and Alice.

When I looked back to the lawn where the man had been, he was no longer there, and I had no reason to give him another thought.

Rose and Alice timidly peeked into my room, but they fairly bounded inside with joyful faces when they saw I was awake. I smiled at them and drew my legs up indian style and patted my bed so they could join me on top of the horrible blanket. They bounced up and each situated herself so that we were a triangle.

I couldn't wait to tell them I'd be going home the next day, and they were thrilled. They asked when I'd be back at school, but I still didn't know, so I just asked them how school was going. I got the low-down on Lauren asking Tyler out after Emmett had given her the brush-off, and we had a laugh about how well those two would probably fit together. I heard that Jazz was still single. I asked if Edward had gotten any attention yet, since Alice had told me he was a hottie.

"He hasn't been at school since Tuesday," she replied.

"That's weird. Is he sick again?" I was sipping the tea now, and even though it was no longer piping hot, it still felt nice against my throat.

"I guess. He was in our English class and Bio. I made him sit with us at lunch on Monday and Tuesday, but he just sat there like a lump."

Rose interjected, "And he didn't eat anything."

Alice nodded. "That's right, but he said he was having headaches. I don't think he was crazy about coming to school."

"Hunh," I mused. "You'd think after years of home-schooling he'd want to be around kids and a bit of frivolity."

"Frivolity?" Alice laughed. "You HAVE been away from school too long, Bella."

I only smirked at her. We talked some more about the upcoming debates that I would be missing, and Rose told us about the restrictions that had been placed on the Homecoming bonfire, which was only two weeks away. Last year's bonfire had caused three students to be suspended because someone spiked the Gatorade dispenser, so there were new rules. As a cheerleader, Rose was very opinionated about the school board interfering with tradition, but she stopped herself from going on about it for too long when she realized Alice had gone really quiet and was inspecting her own fingernails very closely.

Rose bit her lip, remembering the incident with Jazz at last year's bonfire. It was nothing, really, but that's when Rose realized Alice's thing for Jazz. I had always known, of course. But it wasn't until Rose fell from the top of the pyramid twenty yards from the towering flames and cut her arm on a piece of broken wood lying on the ground that she was given a peek into Alice's heart. Jazz had been closest to where she landed, and as the crowd of horrified onlookers swarmed in, he was the one who wrapped his tee-shirt around the cut in a tightly knotted tourniquet and carried her against his bare chest to his car for a ride to the emergency room. Rose was understandably a bit stunned and dazed from the fall and the pain and the bleeding, so I knew as I stood next to Alice watching Rose's beautiful eyes gaze into Jazz's face that things might become a little tense. We saw her lift her mouth to deposit a soft kiss on his jaw, and then Alice ran toward my truck on her light little feet. I stayed planted in that spot long enough to see Jazz smile without turning toward Rose. I could feel very plainly that he wasn't interested. But his chivalrous display as he led the small convoy of cars full of friends and curious on-lookers to the hospital caused a great deal of idle chatter in the hallways for weeks.

Alice had let silent tears trail across her cheek as I drove her home that night.

After weeks of awkward silence between her and Rose, I finally took Rose aside. Her stitches were already out, and she was back at cheer practice when I told her that Alice had been acting weird because of Jazz. I was stunned when Rose had said, "I know." She had looked a little less than her radiant self as she raised her glassy eyes to me pleadingly. "I love Alice, and I don't know what to do. I didn't mean anything. Jazz was only being nice, and I was just overwhelmed because he was warm and smelled so good. And I realized the next day when I saw the way she looked at me that I had done something terrible to her, but I didn't figure it out for days. I replayed and replayed the last conversations we had until I was sure it was nothing I had said. And then when you guys were in the line for lunch and Jazz reached around you for an orange, I saw the look on her face and I realized finally what was up. But I didn't know if you knew, so I didn't know if I could ask you to help me make it right." The words fell out of Rose's mouth in a tangled mess.

I hugged her and we agreed it had to be fixed with a conversation. We were all best friends. If we couldn't talk out a little misunderstanding like this, it would be a travesty.

In the end, Alice admitted her insecurities. She claimed that she was incomparable to Rose's beauty and she had realized that night that Jazz honestly had his pick of ANY girl in the school, so she had no chance. Alice listed all her faults, and Rose and I knocked them all down. She was being really insane and looking at herself through a screwed-up funhouse mirror. After a few hours and some cookie dough ice-cream we were all friends again like before, and I was so happy. Besides, Rose had been buzzed at the time of the infamous kiss from the spiked Gatorade.

I changed the subject away from the bonfire by telling the girls how much I was looking forward to my imminent escape from hospital food. I couldn't believe I'd had to suffer a week of it. Rose kindly pointed out that I've only been conscious enough to eat for the past two days, so I really shouldn't be complaining yet. I thanked her sarcastically for her support.

"So will you guys come over this weekend with some tomato soup and DVDs?" I asked with a light batting of my lashes.

"Of course!" Alice bubbled. "AND we'll do your hair!"

I rolled my eyes, but Rose was clapping with a scary smile on her face, "Nothing will make you feel better faster than bouncy, shiny hair!"

"Let's discuss that when I actually have the energy to take a shower," I mumbled.

That's when the door flew open.

William bounded into the room and grabbed Alice's shoulders. Her face went from silver smiles to a dark mask of confusion instantly. "My little jewel," he muttered as he pulled Alice to her feet. Neither Rose nor I said a word. We were still frozen in surprise. We had never seen William so much as hug Alice, so seeing him grab her felt really out-of-place. "We have to go," he was pulling Alice toward the door.

"Wait!" she squeaked, "William, what's going on?"

He looked at her with a clouded expression, and then he turned to me. "Bella, is Carlisle here?"

"Uhhh," it took me a moment to process his question and then try to come up with the answer. "I think he went home a little while ago."

William was grabbing onto Alice's hand and picking up her bag from the chair by the door. "Tell Carlisle that he's here, and I took Alice away. I'll call when I can."

And then he actually picked Alice up and they were gone.

"Who's here?" I asked the vacant doorway.

Rose and I stared at each other, too stunned to process what had just happened, too stunned to even try to talk out a plausible explanation with each other. We just stared at the spot where Alice had been sitting one minute earlier and exchanged bewildered glances. William's cryptic words were still echoing through my head when thunder rumbled loudly, breaking us from our trance.

We looked out into the darkening sky. "I guess I should get home," Rose said quietly. We felt weird. I did anyway, and Rose looked like she did too. Alice had just been stolen from our presence, and the room was left strangely empty and quiet. All the energy had been sapped from our world.

I nodded as Rose gathered her purse and pulled her raincoat off of the chair where Alice's bag had been. "I'll drop by your house tomorrow, Bella. With soup." She gave me half a smile, which I tried feebly to return as I nodded. I could tell we were both experiencing the same disquiet, and neither of us could articulate the way it shivered against our hearts. She closed the door softly behind her, and a few minutes later I saw the blue car curving slowly away in the pelting rain.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: This is my favorite chapter so far. And yes, if you think they MIGHT be vampires, then they definitely are.

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Six: Death and the Maiden

I must have dozed off because I was startled by the luminescent blackness of the dusky sky outside my window when the howl of a siren and the screech of tires woke me up. Red and blue lights cut through the drizzle as the ambulance barreled up to the emergency entrance. I couldn't see the gurney as it was unloaded, but I heard the bustle in the hallway outside of my door, which was still ajar.

I sighed and pulled the covers tightly across my chest. I felt my brow furrow as I listened to the frantic sounds that drifted toward my ears. A nurse must have called Dr. Cullen at home because I heard her say "Carlisle, can you get back here to O.R. right away? We've got a young girl with extensive injuries and loss of blood."

Young girl?

How sad. It was so easy to lose control of a car on these slick roads. Add to that the "rush hour" traffic... Not that there was ever much "traffic" on the roads in Forks, per se, but in the after-work hours, there could be four or five cars in a row at the four-way stop at the corner of 1st and Main. If any one of those drivers tried to rush their turn or just ran the stop, it could cause a pile-up. Charlie had described many such messes.

Then there were the winding roads along the cliffs above the beach. In slick conditions, cars can go right into the choppy water.

Even in a small town, danger could rear its head at any time.

More red and blue flashing lights drew my gaze back to the window. I saw Charlie's cruiser pull in, less frantically than the ambulance had done. I figured it was a traffic accident for sure. He was here for statements. I hoped the young girl would be able to give him one. I listened to the nurses murmuring under their breaths in the hallway. I couldn't make out any words above the tap tap tap tap tap tap of a new lashing of rain against the window. But the murmuring had an edge to it. The tone definitely meant bad news, but I couldn't really ponder it with gravity because the pelting rain and the muted light and the comparative excitement of the day were all beginning to lull me into a doze.

I was snapped out of my drowsy and disturbing train of thought by heavy footsteps running down the corridor. I caught sight of Dr. Cullen's fair hair as he jogged past my open door. I heard a snatch of his voice, sounding a bit frantic, as he spoke into his cell phone, "I don't care how you do it, but find Edward and get him back here- NOW." I had never heard that fierceness in Dr. Cullen's voice before. I had never thought he could BE fierce at all, but in that one phrase, he evoked such terrible power that he could have commanded an army of demons. I felt a chill of terror creep through my spine and freeze my blood down to my toes and fingertips. I was suddenly wide awake and a nauseating coldness began to shake my body against my will.

I was shivering like that when Charlie came into my room. His face was ashen. His eyes were downcast. His shoulders were slumped.

I stared at him, waiting for him to tell me that my best friend was lying mangled on an operating table; that her blood was washing over Dr. Cullen's hands as her life slipped away. I knew that's what he was saying to me as his lips moved, though my ears must have been full of cotton. I felt tears roll hot and fast down my face; I heard my own rasping sobs echoing miles away. I felt my body shake, even though Charlie's strong arms were trying to bind the fraying edges of my tissue together. He held me tight as I unraveled. I heard screaming, and then a nurse was by Charlie's side, and then consciousness slipped mercifully away.

--

When the sedative began to wear off, I felt the memories from the previous hours trickle into my mind one by one. Once I remembered that Alice was in the hospital with me, I didn't hesitate to slide my legs over the edge of my bed and walk to the door. I don't know how I managed it without even being able to feel my feet, but I moved myself by sheer force of will down the deserted corridor. I was glad the nurse's station was empty, though I wouldn't have stopped at her word. I navigated the tiny, small-town hospital until I heard the wheels of a gurney squeaking quietly, slowly, and unevenly down an empty hallway.

I met Dr. Cullen's sad eyes for a moment. He had paused, almost as though he could hear my silent footsteps. I could see that a tiny body lay covered by a slightly blood-stained sheet on the platform that he pushed in front of himself. His eyes were deeply tragic and apologetic. They told me more than any lengthy explanation could have said. They told me he had done everything he could. Everything, and his spirit was broken, and his heart was breaking for my loss.

My stubborn feet kept moving slowly toward him. He stepped away from the gurney and walked toward me, meeting me in the hall ten feet from the body. He placed a cold hand on each of my shoulders and turned me around. As my body turned, my eyes remained locked on the form of my dead friend. I craned my neck around the doctor's broad shoulder, and kept my eyes fixed on the sheet until the very last possible moment as he guided me forcibly away down the otherwise deserted corridor.

And I swear I saw the sheet rise and fall as though the body covered beneath it had taken a deep breath.

I wanted to run back then, rip the sheet away, touch Alice's sweet sleeping face. But we were already turning the corner, and Dr. Cullen was cooing soothing phrases at me in his professional voice. And I was too tongue-tied and confused to articulate the million questions I suddenly had. Before I knew it, I was back in my bed, breathing deeply, struggling with two uncompromising thoughts that were battling in my mind. Alice was still alive, but Dr. Cullen had given up.

Charlie had praised Dr. Cullen as a top surgeon time and time again, and I had always received incomparable care from him on any of my various visits to the emergency room. He was capable, unflappable, compassionate, brilliant... And he was walking away while my best friend died.

He must have sedated me heavily, because the sun was shining blindingly brightly when I next opened my eyes. The sky was the brilliant blue that we only got after a massive storm had blown itself out. I still felt groggy, and I almost just let my eyes close again until I heard Charlie flipping the page of his newspaper from the chair at the foot of my bed.

"Dad?"

Charlie looked up at me with a guarded expression. "Hey, kiddo. How're feeling this afternoon?"

"Where's Alice?"

He didn't say anything. He didn't even move. Neither did I. My words had paralyzed both of us. I don't know how long we sat staring each other down before I threw my covers back and rose from the bed. Charlie began to get to his feet, but I said "I just have to pee."

I locked the door of the small water closet attached to my room and looked into the pale, wan face in the mirror. Seeing myself made everything suddenly so real. I wouldn't look so hellish if things weren't really as bad as they seemed.

I sobbed in the tiny bathroom for an inordinate amount of time. I peed and washed my face and splashed cold water into my eyes and then crumpled onto the cold white floor and sobbed some more. Eventually a nurse opened the door with a ring of keys in her hand and Charlie lifted me up like I was a bag of oranges and placed me back on the uncomfortable pillows.

Despite Rose's visits and Charlie's vigils, I didn't resurface until the day of the funeral.

Dr. Cullen hadn't been back into my room- not while I was conscious anyway- since the night he let Alice die.

Charlie brought my black sweater and jeans to the hospital, and Rose helped me dress. We rode together in Charlie's cruiser to the cemetery. It was drizzling, so I was bundled up in a heavy parka to protect my tenuous health from a serious relapse.

Rose and I held hands in the mist, crowded among half the school and handfuls of adults.

A man stood at the head of the grave talking about the beauty of life, but I tuned him out. I should have looked around for William, but I couldn't even will my eyes to move. I would hug him after the funeral. I would mumble something to him about loss.

The breeze whipped around us. I heard Rose sniffling quietly, but I really couldn't cry anymore. I just took a deep breath now and then to steel myself against the pain.

In the middle of one of those breaths, I froze. That haunting scent that had ignited a mysterious fire in my soul was floating on the wind around me. I still related it to Dr. Cullen, since he was my only known link to it. So I instinctively sought his fair head in the crowd.

But my glance only grazed him before it was drawn harshly, staggeringly, to his right.

There stood the single most beautiful person I had ever laid eyes on in my life. And he was staring right at me.

As our eyes locked on each other, I saw his shoulders raise as though he would remove his hands from his trouser pockets, but Dr. Cullen's hand was on his wrist instantly, stopping him. And so he only stared at me as I stared at him, and when I saw the whipping wind playfully toss a stray lock of his deep amber hair in front of his eyes, I felt as if my lungs had been deflated by a powerful blow to my chest. His beauty was staggering. The same gust of wind hit my face, overpowering my senses with that delicate aroma of delicious, ethereal, confounding, yet appetizing sex.

He just smelled like edible, walking sex.

In that moment that my lungs filled and the aroma overtook me, I felt my blood frantically fighting it's way through my veins, trying to burst through my skin like water from a dam. I was simultaneously hot and cold. Shivering and sweating. Trying to breathe, trying to swallow, trying to stay on my feet. His shining honey colored eyes seared into mine, and his nostrils flared. He looked like he was preparing to pounce on me.

Or flee.

Dr. Cullen maintained a tight grip on his wrist. I could see the while knuckles against the straining black wool of the jacket that the most gorgeous man in the world was wearing. I don't know how long I stared at him before I realized he must be Edward.

But he stared at me the whole time as well, and somehow that kept me from being self-conscious about the staring.

However, I noticed something odd. I was fairly panting from my surging emotions, and they never had a chance to calm because with each breath I took, I inhaled more of him, and my mind just got fuzzier and my legs got shakier and my palms got sweatier, and I just panted heavier, hanging onto Rose with grief acting as a cover for my emotional distress. But the more I stared at him, the more I became convinced that he wasn't breathing at all. He stood as still as a statue. A carved marble image of a deity that my soul instinctively knew it was created to worship.

Only his warm eyes, his glinting, billowing hair, and the slight ruby tint to his perfect mouth gave hint to the fact that he was a living creature rather than an idol wrought of stone.

Anemia. He was pale because of the anemia, I told myself. My mind was taking off on its own, drudging up any facts I had about Edward. Unfortunately, they were all sitting in my memory in Alice's voice. And sadly, they were very few. I knew practically nothing about him, and I felt my brow crease because I suddenly really NEEDED to know everything about him.

Rose tugged on my arm and then fell against me in a hug, breaking my eye contact with Edward. I slowly let reality sink back into my mind as we hugged each other. I realized that the man who had officiated the ceremony was now silent, and people were drifting away in groups of two and three. I let myself weep into Rose's jacket as the reality of the occasion overtook me.

After crying for several minutes, we were both worn out from it, and pushed away from each other to wipe our eyes. I looked toward Edward, but he was no longer there. Dr. Cullen was closer now and alone, walking toward us. "How are you holding up, Bella?" I just stared at him. He did smell like Edward, but now that I knew the scent only lingered around him like a bit of pollen might stay on something its flower had touched, I didn't get carried away by it. I also couldn't believe he was speaking to me.

"Where's William?" I asked. I didn't want Dr. Cullen in front of me right now, but I did need to speak to his cousin. I needed to comfort William or be comforted by him.

Dr. Cullen looked at me and then looked at Rose, who looked at me. "What?" I asked.

"Bella, he died."

That made no sense. "What?"

"William is dead, Bella." Dr. Cullen kept saying my name as he spoke to me, maybe to help the words sink in.

"But he wasn't in the hospital that night." I don't know how I knew that, but I did know it. Someone would have mentioned it in all the muttering. There would have been talk of two victims. Somehow I'd have known about William.

"He died at the scene, Bella."

The enormity of the words were overwhelming. I looked at Rose and she only barely nodded a silent confirmation. I started walking away then. I walked toward the cruiser with Charlie sitting inside running the heater. I felt Rose trail just behind me, and in my mind's eye, I could envision Dr. Cullen standing alone in front of the rumpled mound of earth at Alice's grave.


	7. Chapter 7

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Seven: Finding the Thread

I finally went back to school a week after my release from the hospital. A week after the funeral. I still didn't have the energy to drive my beast of a truck, so I had to endure a ride to school in the cruiser. Charlie offered to turn the lights on for me so I could have an "entrance" as we pulled up to the school. I smiled feebly at him, remembering that when I was four years old, I used to BEG him to run the lights when I was in the car.

I looked toward the bike rack. Alice's bike wasn't chained up there. She wouldn't be waiting by our lockers for me. I felt like I was watching myself walk into the building. I felt like someone else was moving my legs for me.

Rose was standing by her open locker. Alice's locker was there, in between mine & Rose's. The glittery silver "A" sticker was still stuck to her locker door. I wondered if all her stuff was still inside. If William hadn't been around to take her things, then I guessed Dr. Cullen and his family would have to do it. They were the closest thing to family that she'd had.

I stood staring at my locker for several moments. I could not remember my combination. Rose touched my shoulder and asked me what was wrong. I looked at her and then my hand reached out to the glittery "A" on Alice's locker. I touched it and then walked away. I had all my books in my bag already. I could try to remember the combination during English.

My senses were assaulted and overwhelmed as I walked into the English classroom with Rose, and I knew Edward was there. I felt a little dizzy as my heart rate sped up suddenly, and I practically fell into my chair. Without even looking, I knew that Edward was sitting in the back row, near the door, three seats back and two over from me. I knew because that was the only empty seat before. And now the seat on the row next to me was the only empty one. Rose sat behind Alice's empty desk, and I wondered how she could stand to stare at the constant reminder.

I floated through the day until lunch. Rose and I sat together quietly, neither of us eating. We both laughed when Rose broke the silence, "Remember when she got pissed off at Jessica and flicked a sporkful of mashed potatoes right at her head?"

"Oh God!" I giggled, "And Jess reached up into her hair and pulled it out like it was a dead bug or something, and Alice didn't miss a beat. She just kept telling us under her breath about Jess blocking her locker for the fifteenth time in the girl's changing room while Jess scoured the room for the culprit!" Hysteria was quickly coming over both of us.

We were exchanging these little stories and laughing when Jazz and Angela joined us at the table. Others migrated toward us one by one, our stories acting as a siren song to anyone who missed Alice. I was comforted by the presence of these people who remembered her. Alice had liked them all, and they all missed her in their own ways. They each had stories to add to ours. By the end of lunch, I felt exhausted from thinking about her and weary from the hysteria, but also lighter. I felt like some of the fog had lifted away from my heart.

We all had to race to our next classes because we had lingered as long as we could, stubbornly hanging on to the threads of comfort we had pulled out of our memories of Alice.

When I jogged into the biology room, my elbow caught the door handle and I dropped my books just inside the threshold. The teacher stared at me because the bell had already sounded the beginning of class, so I scrambled to gather all my stuff into my arms and scamper into my chair. That's when I noticed that Alice's seat wasn't empty. Instead, sitting next to me was Edward.

I felt like I had been struck by a bolt of lightening because seeing him and smelling him this close, simultaneously, was so utterly overwhelming to all of my senses. He smelled more desirable than ever, and I my head reeled as though I were utterly intoxicated by his presence. And he LOOKED so much more incredible and perfect up close than he had when he was standing across from me at Alice's grave.

I forgot to open my notebook and listen to the lecture. I was fixated on Edward. His skin was flawless, if pale. His hair was lush, if messy- the messiness only made it more luscious. His eyes were smoldering despite the unusually light hue of the brown. Had I thought they looked like honey before? Now they looked like two perfect butterscotch candies mounted under a deeply brooding brow.

Yes, he was brooding. Scowling even. He had locked eyes with me at first but then shifted his gaze to the front of the room, with difficulty it seemed. Then again, it was so difficult for me to look away from him that I just stared.

He was godlike in his perfection. His beauty was powerful, fascinating, frightening, and unfathomable.

I don't know how long I stared at him that day. I kept taking deep breaths of him, and occasionally it seemed as though he were watching me intently from his periphery. I didn't see any movement from him after he turned his face away though. In fact, I could swear once again that he wasn't even breathing. He wasn't taking notes on the lecture either. He sat with his fists clenched at his sides, the tendons in his forearms as taught and pronounced just under his skin as steel cables pulled under a sheet of finely woven silk. I could practically see the fibers of his muscles straining under his perfect, smooth flesh. I wanted more than anything to reach out and touch him, but I just sat there, gazing drunkenly at him, ogling him blatantly while my head swam with a thick fog. And he just sat there, his entire body carved into a perfect vision of angry beauty.

When the bell rang, he was gone. Just gone. He got up and left so quickly that it was almost unnatural. Almost as unnatural as his beauty.

The entire first week back at school passed this way. I stared at Edward, and he hated me silently. Looking back on it, I guess my teachers ignored my bizarre behavior and inattention because they chalked it up to grief. And I was too perpetually stunned by Edward to realize that anyone else might notice my behavior at all. No one said anything to me, and eventually I was able to stare less and less. I was able to concentrate on the teachers for short periods of time before lapsing into an Edward-induced daze.

And I noticed that as the days wore on that though his face maintained the sharp edge of furious loathing, he sat slightly less stiffly, walked slightly less quickly, and remained slightly less silent.

The first time I heard his voice, I thought I was daydreaming. He had been called on in class to answer a question, and I was paying vague attention to the teacher rather than staring at Edward at that moment, so when I heard his voice, at first I didn't realize the sound had come from him. It was dulcet and low and resonant and whispery and smooth with a dark edge to it. It was molten chocolate and velvet on fire. After he spoke, I turned my head slowly toward him because before my brain had figured out that it was his voice, my instincts KNEW it was his voice.

That day he smiled at me. Sort of. Half of his mouth curved up as he looked at me, and I felt my mouth instantly water as I watched his beautiful lips curl. I wanted to lick them. Instead, I just stared at him like a big goggly fish. I swear he chuckled slightly under his breath as he turned his face back to the front of the room. He did still seem to be scowling, but at the same time, he was more of a man and less cold, hard, stone.

I found myself thinking about Edward morning, noon, and night. I knew it was fast becoming an insane obsession. I hadn't even spoken a word to him yet. But still, I was fascinated by him. When he wasn't near me, I would inhale deeply against whatever I had worn to class that day, trying to pick up a hint of his scent. I would replay his every movement in my head like scenes of a movie on repeat. I wanted to know why he hated me.

After a while, I came to the conclusion that he blamed me for Alice's death.

If she hadn't been visiting me at the hospital, William wouldn't have been driving her home in that storm. I knew there was no blood relation, but Alice was practically a daughter to William, who was a cousin (or something) to Dr. Cullen, who was married to Edward's sister. Tenuous. Six degrees of separation. But still, family is family.

The only time I didn't think about him was when I was in the supermarket.

I found myself picking up Alice's former habit of hitting the store after the evening rush when the guys were stocking the shelves. I don't think I did it on purpose, but I did have Jazz's schedule memorized because of Alice. One night in the middle of November I was actively ignoring the cartoon turkeys with word bubbles coming out of their cheerful beaks trying to entice me to eat them, and I found myself on an aisle I had tended to avoid ever since I had been back on my feet.

It was surreal the way the Raisin Bran boxes sort of swirled around on the shelf as I stared at them. They went fuzzy, and then my face felt wet.

"Hey," A low voice crooned soothingly behind me. "Hey, Bella. It's okay. It's okay." Warm arms surrounded me, and I wept.

Jazz breathed into my hair as he held me and I cried freely for the first time in weeks. I don't know how long we stood there, but I do remember the calming sound of his voice, and the way he stroked my hair until tranquility surrounded me.

Eventually, I sniffed and wiped my eyes with a wry, embarrassed smile. He returned the smile in a bracing, reassuring way and handed me a wad of paper towels from the basket he was pushing around to restock the shelves.

"I miss her, too."

"Oh, Jazz," I sighed and squeezed his arm as I looked around to make sure I had successfully shaken off the disorienting dizziness. "She was really in love with you, you know."

I honestly don't know what possessed me to blurt that out, and for a moment the words hung on the air around us while the crappy speakers blared out a bad power ballad. Jazz stared into my eyes and then slowly stepped toward me again and wrapped his arms around me in a bone-crushing embrace. At first I didn't know what to do with my arms. I wasn't sure if he was coming on to me or if he was overcome. Then I felt his chest heave and heard his breath lurch out his lungs unevenly, and it was my turn to do the comforting.

I pressed my cheek to his chest and stared around his shoulder and held him while he used me as a temporary refuge from his pain. His voice gurgled up from his chest once or twice as he mourned for the girl he hadn't even realized he had loved.

My own breath hitched when I saw two golden eyes staring at me through the huge plate glass window at the front of the building. The exterior lights illuminated Edward's lustrous hair like a halo around his beatific face. Tiny droplets bounced off of his shoulders and cheeks as he stared back at me with a tense set to his jaw and a crease in his perfect forehead. As Jazz released me, I lost the connection with Edward's gaze, and when I looked back to the window, all I saw were two red dots as the tail lights of his Volvo slipped stealthily out of the parking lot.


	8. Chapter 8

Okay then. Here's another short one that will hopefully win over the doubters.

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Eight: Love

"That was a wonderful thing you did for Alice."

The burning satin of his voice stunned me, and I must have had the goggly fish look on my face again as I looked up to meet the molten gold of his eyes.

"Bella?" My name rolling off of his lips was the single most seductive sound I had ever heard. So of course all I did was stare for a few more seconds.

His face broke into half a grin and a roll of laughter rumbled up from the back of his throat. His left hand flew to his hair and ruffled through the burnished amber filaments that shone like polished bronze even in the dull florescent lighting of the biology lab.

"What do you mean?" I found my voice at last. It was small and feeble, as voices go, but at least it hadn't completely failed me.

He ran his hand absentmindedly across his forehead and over his lips as he contemplated me. I felt my heart race when his fingers grazed his mouth.

"About Alice?" I added because he didn't seem to understand my question.

"Sharing her love with Jasper. That was a beautiful thing to do." His eyes attested to the sincerity of the statement, but I was still a little slow.

"Jasper?"

"Uh, Jazz. Jasper Whitlock."

"His name is JASPER?"

There was that laugh again, tumbling from between his perfect lips and igniting a playful fire behind his eyes.

"Yes. Did you think his parents named him Jazz?"

I thought for a moment. "No." I suddenly realized I was having a conversation with the man whose image appears in the entry for PERFECTION in my own private encyclopedia, so I blushed a million shades of red and cast my eyes down at my fidgeting fingers. Did I hear a sharp intake of breath from Edward's side of the desk? "No," I continued. "I figured it was a nickname. I thought maybe he was a musician."

Another peal of gentle laughter. It sounded warm and adoring, but surely I that was wishful thinking on my part. "Bella, really. I just wanted to tell you how amazing I think you are."

"Huh?" Aural hallucinations, definitely.

"What you did for Alice," He was looking deeply into my eyes and speaking slowly as though I were stupid- which I admit was a fair guess at that point. Really I was drunk, high, overwhelmed by his proximity and all the things that were bundled into the Edward package.

"Edward," his eyes seemed to spark when I said his name, "I really don't know what you're talking about. But Alice was my best friend. I'd do anything for her."

He smiled. "When you told Jazz that she loves him and made him realize that he loves her... That was the greatest gift you ever could have given her."

I felt the tears welling in my eyes. "How did you even know about that?" I was furiously peeling the nail polish off of my nails because his intense gaze was driving me to the edge of distraction. "Were you inside the store? I didn't see you inside." What I should have said was, "I didn't smell you," but that would have just sounded creepy.

"Of course I was. You saw me leaving."

My hands stopped fidgeting and I looked up into his face again. That was a blatant lie. Why was he lying? And how could he have known what I said to Jazz if he wasn't inside? His face was too close to mine. He was leaning toward me a little. His eyes were intense and slightly frustrated now, as though he were trying to see into my head with x-ray spex that had shorted out.

"I'd do anything for Alice," I mumbled again, distracted.

"She thinks of you as a sister," he mumbled as he turned toward the microscope we were supposed to be using.

My mind was full of Alice by that time, and I couldn't concentrate on the lab I was supposed to be doing. I let Edward do the work in silence as I thought of a thousand things I would tell Alice if she were here. She'd be sitting next to me, doing this lab with me, making me laugh, and planning something for the weekend… Instead, Edward was beside me. And his presence was so much larger than life in my own little world that lately he had been eclipsing Alice in my thoughts.

This realization made me clutch my arms across my chest and fight back heaving sobs that I couldn't allow myself to unleash in the middle of a classroom. I had betrayed my best friend's memory for this guy that had spoken to me exactly once in all the short time I'd been around him.

Edward instantly seemed to feel my sudden tumultuous disquiet. "Mr. Banner? The odor from these samples is making Bella ill. May I take her to the nurse's office?"

The class was momentarily hushed as everyone looked at me. I felt my face go red again, but I couldn't lift my eyes to glare at Edward for focusing the attention on me because lifting my eyes would have released the wellspring of tears. Mr. Banner must have waved his permission at us because before I knew it, a pair of strong solid arms was guiding me effortlessly toward the door.

The feel of his hands on me was overwhelming. My heart raced. I was already beside myself with the torment of a thousand emotions, and the added intensity of his electric touch sent me over the edge.

My body was wracked with heaving sobs right there in the hallway. At first, Edward shuffled his hands up and down my arms in the helplessly distracted way that men have when they're overwhelmed by someone else's emotion and don't know how to handle it. He murmured something too low and fast for me to make out. I was aware that he must have been embarrassed by my outburst, but I couldn't even be embarrassed for myself at that point. I was beyond being able to cope with anything but my own horror at myself for betraying my best friend by thinking too much about this guy instead of her.

Suddenly I was engulfed in Edward's arms as he pressed me against his solid chest in a smothering embrace. "Shhh, Bella. I've got you." He seemed to have decided that holding me was the only course of action. "I've got you, Bella." He repeated this simple hushed little mantra into my hair over and over again, and as his breath sighed across my face, I felt a new sense of calm wash over me. I felt my legs weaken, but I couldn't know if they would have still supported me or not because Edward held me tightly, weaving his spell of soothing words into my hair.

My head swam violently and my tears ceased. I began to shiver, and I was suddenly aware that I was very cold. I opened my eyes, expecting that the cold must have been a result of Edward leading me outside, but we were still in the hallway outside of the biology classroom. I concentrated on breathing. I felt like I needed to compose myself and spare Edward from my neuroses as quickly as possible. I pushed against his chest, but he didn't budge. His arms remained clasped around me like an iron cage.

But rather than feeling captive, I felt protected. I let my fingers press against his chest, and I registered how very solid his muscles were. I let my cheek lie against his shirt, which was damp from my outburst. The sound of my own heartbeat still echoed loudly in my ears as it worked overtime to contain the emotion that wanted to burst out and swallow the man who held me. I closed my eyes again against Edward and tried to listen for the rhythm of his own heart beat, but my own was just drumming too loudly to let anything else in. I didn't think my feet were even touching the ground by then. Edward was just holding me, not even seeming to breathe.

He had gone silent, and the scent of his body so close to me was making me want to run my fingers over him as much as I could. I looked up into his face and met his eyes. Hi face was so close to my face. His lips were so close to my lips. We hovered there dancing motionlessly together, and all the answers to every unasked question that lingered between us floated in the space between our two sets of eyes.

I felt bewitched by him, and his face mirrored my feeling exactly. In that moment of intimate silence as we stood in each other's arms, feeling the undeniable pull of destiny, we both looked into the other's face and shared in the shock and terror and acceptance and passion and love.

Not everyone can pinpoint the exact moment when they realize they've fallen in love, but Edward and I both recognized it then. I had no doubt in my mind that we were on the same page.

And then he was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Nine: Breaking and Entering

My hands that had just been touching him ached from his sudden absence and stung from the friction of his mind-bogglingly fast retreat. I looked ahead of me, taking a moment to for my eyes to focus on the distance because they had been trained on Edward standing so very close to me for the past several moments. Of course the adjustment was probably quite quick, but time wasn't moving right for me just then. My arms dropped slowly but heavily to my sides. They mourned the sudden loss. I turned my head slowly to see if he had simply jogged up the adjacent corridor, but there was no sign of movement. There was nothing in any direction but the empty hallways. My senses slowly returned, and I began to register the distant buzz of all the voices from all the occupied classrooms surrounding me.

The bell rang, and I jumped like a cat near a firecracker. I stood rooted in the spot though, my heart racing from the startling noise now, rather than because of Edward. Suddenly Mike was next to me, asking if I was alright and if I wanted him to grab my books off my desk for me. I realized that Edward's books would still be there, too, so I gave Mike the brush-off and ducked back into the now-empty classroom.

I collected my bag and notebook and Edward's textbook and pen. A few loose sheets of paper were folded haphazardly into his textbook, and I shoved them in more securely, assuming they were his notes and he'd want them back, before cramming the book into my bag and retreating from the room.

I almost instantly ran into Rose in the hall. "B, are you okay? Mike told me you got sick in blodge." Rose had her own nickname for every class she took.

I gave her a weary smile, "I was just missing Alice suddenly."

Rose's warm arm snaked around my shoulder and she pulled me to her chest. The differences between this hug and the one I'd recently shared with Edward were too many and too blatantly obvious to name. "Oh Jelly Belly. Let's cut the last hour and go get some ice-cream." I smiled and nodded in silent agreement.

The tiny burger joint on Main where we stopped for a banana split was mostly deserted when we entered. Rose and I chatted easily about a thousand things. It was easy to talk to Rose about Alice. Or talk to Rose about not Alice. So we just talked about everything.

Three important social events loomed on our calendars, so mostly we talked about those.

This coming weekend was Jazz's big eighteenth birthday party on the beach. The whole school was buzzing about this party. Everyone seemed to be latching onto the event as the return to normalcy we all needed so desperately after Alice's death had left such a gaping hole in the lives of the whole student body. Rose and I wanted it too. We wanted SOMETHING that could help us feel a little normal again.

I had already moaned about the insanity of having a party on the beach in November, but Forks didn't have a lot of venues on offer where teenagers could gather in large numbers, play loud music, and drink contraband beer. So we would bundle up and build the biggest fires we could manage. I let my mind wander for a moment into a fantasy where Edward held me by the bonfire as the waves crashed a lilting melody in the distance.

Then there was the Thanksgiving break, which I was NOT looking forward to. Alice and I had planned to cook for Charlie and William. We hadn't sprung this idea on Charlie and William yet, but we weren't at all worried about them not going along with it. William indulged Alice in anything, and Charlie would be wherever there was food and football.

"Do you and Charlie want to come to our place for Thanksgiving?" Rose offered as she scooped up the last remaining maraschino cherry from the melted pool of fudgy goo and whipped cream.

I sighed. "He told me earlier in the week that Billy invited us up. Charlie will want to watch the football with his buddies, so I guess that's the plan."

Rose did a gorgeous pout with her beautiful lips. "Rats. Well, what about Friday? Do you have plans?"

"No." I wondered for a moment what Edward would be doing on the day after Thanksgiving. "Maybe we should go up to Port Angeles for a movie," I suggested half-heartedly.

"Or shopping," Rose countered.

I looked up at her. Alice had dragged us shopping last year on the day after Thanksgiving. It was right after she and Rose had resolved the Jazz-related friendship embargo, and we were all in high spirits from having the triumvirate back together again. I really couldn't commit to shopping with Rose this year. It would remind me too much of the person that was missing from our midst. She read my silent resolution in my eyes and backtracked, "There's one of those stupid parody movies out. Mindless laughs and popcorn bellyaches?" I nodded my agreement.

The final thing on our agenda to discuss was Christmas. We still had a little while to wait inside the restaurant before it would be safe to go home. If we were too early, our parents might somehow find out we had ditched. Plus I was cold from the ice cream, so I decided a cup of coffee would serve to warm me up AND let us linger a while longer at the table without pissing the waitress off. I ordered and Rose started discussing her plans for her car.

I was lazily watching the cream swirl into the coffee when I heard the siren. Rose and I (and the waitress and the other guy eating scrambled eggs at the counter) craned our necks as Charlie's cruiser zoomed by. Rose and I shrugged at each other. He may be zipping through town, but nothing really worrying ever happened here, so I didn't ever get uptight about Charlie's safety on the job.

Rose told me that she had been reading auto-care manuals, and she was talking about taking shop as her senior year elective. She was really gung-ho about the car. I liked this idea though. I imagined that the day would come when my truck would need a little TLC that I had no means to pay for.

Twenty minutes and a second cup of coffee later, Jazz and Emmett and Tyler came into the café. They all waved at us. Rose said "Hi Jazz. Hi Mac." and Tyler stared at her for a moment, but he just slid into the booth. Jazz, on the other hand, came up to our table.

"Hi Rose. Bella. Can I sit for a sec?"

Another group of guys from the high school came in then, and we heard Emmett's boisterous hellos and the guys knocked their fists at each other and thumped each other across the tables.

"Yeah, of course Jazz," I answered as I slid over to make room for him.

"How're doing, Bella? I heard you passed out in biology."

"You passed out?" Rose gaped at me for not telling her this juicy bit of news.

"NO!" I protested. "I did NOT pass out. Where the hell did you hear that?"

Jazz shrugged. "You're alright now, though?"

"Yeah. Thanks. Maybe just a little on edge from the caffeine and sugar."

"You guys are coming to my birthday party, right?" He looked at both of us expectantly as though we might actually say no. I was reminded as I looked at his profile of how handsome I had thought he was the first time I had seen him. He still had the strong, straight features, but he had grown into them more in the last year. He was downright gorgeous and manly.

"Of course we are." I smiled at him.

Rose leaned in, "Do we need to bring anything?" She didn't exactly whisper it, but her voice did take on a conspiratorial edge to let Jazz know that by "anything" she meant booze.

He laughed his easy carefree laugh. "I've got it covered."

"Hey Jazz!" we all looked over to see why Emmett was hollering at Jazz from across the room. Jazz held up his hand to let his friend know he'd be another minute. I saw Rose's eyes linger on the other table for several moments after Jazz had already looked away. Then Emmett was pushing against Rose and sliding into the booth next to her. For a split second she looked affronted by his presumptuousness, but then she took a second to look him up and down appreciatively, and she didn't complain.

"Jazz, you gotta hear this," he was whispering really loudly.

"What is it, Em?" Jazz prodded in his usual easy voice.

"Dude, someone broke into a house up the road!" Emmett blurted out.

"Huh?"

"Yeah, the cops are all there. That house around the corner with the overgrown garden and massive greenhouses."

My heart stopped, and my eyes locked on Rose's eyes. Someone had broken into Alice's house?

Jazz pressed his palms against the Formica tabletop. "What do you mean, Emmett? That house is empty." Clearly he knew it was Alice's house that Emmett was talking about, too.

"The guys just told me they saw the cops hauling ass through town with the lights and sirens on, so they followed 'em to the crime scene. One of them heard a cop telling Chief Swan, "Emmett nodded at me as he reference my dad, "that the back door was ripped off its hinges. A neighbor heard the crashes and called 9-1-1."

Jazz and I moved simultaneously and scrambled out of the booth. Rose was pelting Emmett on the arm with her ineffectual fists for not moving fast enough. I heard her yell "Move your ass, McCarty!" when I was halfway to the door.

"Hey! Your bill!" I was almost out the door when the waitress yelled, so I froze and started digging in my bag.

"I got it, girls. No sweat." Emmett was still standing near our vacated table and was reaching into his back pocket.

Rose called over her shoulder as she shoved me out the door behind Jazz, "Thanks, Emmett. I'll get yours next time."

My hands were shaking as I fumbled to shove the key into the driver side door of my truck. Jazz's steady hand reached out and latched onto my wrist. "I'll bring you back for your truck later." I followed him to his car, and Rose and I climbed inside as he was revving the engine. He was already shifting into reverse when Emmett yanked the back door open and crammed his massive form into the seat beside Rose. No one said anything about it though. Jazz drove straight to Alice's house.

Charlie and his whole force were there. Yellow tape was being wrapped across the driveway. I was running up to the footpath when my father's arms latched onto my shoulders and stopped me abruptly. "No way, Bella. Go home."

"Dad, what's going on? What happened?"

"You don't need to be here honey. Boys," he launched into his authoritative tone, "Take the girls home NOW."

Emmett clutched onto Rose's hand and halfheartedly tugged at her. She and I were rooted in place, craning our necks futilely toward the house that was completely obstructed by vegetation.

Jazz was craning his neck as well. Slyly taking advantage of Charlie holding on to me, Jazz walked toward the officer standing beside the pickup truck emblazoned with FORKS POLICE across its door.

"Come on, Bells." Charlie's gentle voice pulled my attention to his face. He gave me a grimace and said, "Go on home. I'll let you know what we find out."

"You promise?"

"Just go home now, and I'll come talk with you as soon as I can wrap up."

Rose took my hand while Emmett still held her other one. And we retreated to Jazz's car. As soon as we were across the street, Charlie turned back to his investigation, and we tried to be inconspicuous waiting for Jazz.

While waiting by the passenger door of Jazz's car, I felt my face flush and my heart speed up and my ears buzz with a tinny ring. At first I had no idea what caused it, and I was about to write my body's strange behavior off to the excitement and shock and caffeine, but then I realized it was another familiar set of reactions. Edward was nearby. I could smell him.

My eyes darted over the scene wildly, desperate to catch a glimpse of his bronze hair glinting in the hazy twilight that was settling in around us.

But he was invisible. He was an invisible presence. I didn't doubt for a moment my conviction that he was there, even though I couldn't see him. I felt a surge of warmth run through me with the knowledge that he was nearby and the memory of the embrace we had shared less than two hours ago. I wondered why he was hiding.

Suddenly Jazz was there, climbing quickly into the car, and we all scrambled in after him. Once he started the engine and rolled away from the swelling crowd of onlookers, Emmett broke the tense silence, "Well?"

Jazz didn't answer until he parked next to my truck in front of the restaurant. The lot was filling up with the after school and after work crowds mingling together. Jazz kept his eyes forward and his hands on the wheel as we waited in silent attention for him to speak.

"Alice's room was broken into."

"What?!" Rose shrieked.

"The back door was ripped clean off, but the only room in the house that was touched is Alice's room. All her stuff is gone."

I frowned and stared into the gathering dark outside the window in front of me.

"Shouldn't her stuff already be gone?" Rose's voice was hushed now, no longer cutting through the heavy air of the car, but just delicately sifting to our ears.

"Huh?" Emmett was looking at each of us in turn. I didn't look back to see him, but I could hear him turning his head. The curls at the nape of his neck made a faint brushing noise against his collar.

Rose let her thoughts out, "Shouldn't someone have already cleared things out? Shouldn't the footpath be overgrown? Shouldn't the house be boarded up or for sale?"

None of us had an answer. Jazz was still staring stoically ahead when I turned my face toward Rose. I needed to share a comforting glance with her. "Why don't you come home with me, Rose?" I whispered.

She nodded, but we all sat still for several minutes before reaching for the door handles. Jazz stayed put and remained wrapped in his own thoughts. His car still sat there even after I found my keys, unlocked the door with my shaking hand, coaxed the beastly old engine to life and clicked on the lights. I saw his silhouette sitting in the same position like a mannequin on display as I turned my truck onto Main to head home.

_A/N: I seriously hate asking for reviews, but I'm getting a little antsy. Please comment._


	10. Chapter 10

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Ten: Drawings

Rose and I had our homework spread out on my kitchen table by the time Charlie got home. I had some chili simmering on the stove for him, hoping that offering one of his favorite meals would open him up. He looked tired as he hung his belt on its hook and removed his jacket.

I started moving my things off the table, and Rose followed suit in silence. The three of us said nothing as the table was set, bowls were filled, and Charlie settled himself heavily into his chair.

"Bells, don't ever let me catch you running willy-nilly onto a crime scene ever again." His gruff voice cut through the silence and felt like a slap to my face. Rose looked from his face to mine without moving anything other than her eyes. Her spoon was hovering in front of her mouth where she had been cooling her bite with a steady breath through her lips formed into a perfect O.

"Dad, what happened?" my whispered voice sounded loud in the heavy tension of the room, and my father sighed.

"It looks like a crime of passion," he began and then paused. Rose and I sat silently waiting for him to continue because neither of us had any idea what words would coax more information from Chief Swan. "Did Alice have a boyfriend, Bella?"

"Why are you asking that? What happened?" My own voice sounded far away to my ears.

"Someone targeted her room. Her clothes were taken. Shoes, underwear... Some of it was piled on the floor, ripped up; some of it was just gone." None of us was eating now. "Looks like jewellery and photos are gone. Hard to say. Big mess."

"Why do you think it was a boyfriend?" Rose's voice was stronger than mine but still hushed and timid.

"Typically a female can't do the kind of breaking and entering we saw. It looks like it was just one person in and out."

"How could one person rip a door off a house?"

Charlie glared up at me, I saw him running through the list of people who could have slipped that information to me. But he finally answered. "Drugs, maybe. I dunno, Bella. The house isn't in the best shape. There's a lot of exterior damage from roots and vines and excessive damp."

"Who's been taking care of the house?" Rose asked.

Charlie met her eyes, "What do you mean, Rosalie?"

"The footpath was clear. The porch light was on. Why isn't the house up for sale already?"

Charlie frowned but didn't answer. He started eating mechanically with his eyebrows knitted very close together in concentration. The rest of the meal passed in silence and Charlie left as soon as his bowl was empty.

Rose stayed while I did the dishes. There was an unspoken agreement between us not to discuss the break-in. To be honest, I was so lost in my thoughts and so exhausted from the day that I couldn't have articulated any of the swirling questions in my head if I had tried. I hugged Rose lightly when she her mother's car rolled into the driveway to pick her up, and I climbed to my room to collapse on my bed.

Sleep was fitful that night. I dreamed too many different things.

First, I dreamed that Alice and I were making tissue paper flowers on the floor of her bedroom. We were discussing Jazz's upcoming birthday party, and discussing whether or not to make cupcakes for him. Suddenly Alice was distraught over what to wear to the party, and she flew to the slatted shutter-style doors of her closet. She began wildly pulling dresses and skirts and blouses off their hangers and trying different outfits on one-by one with furious speed.

Suddenly, Edward was there on the floor next to me helping me fold the flowers and laughing at Alice's madness. I had wire ties for finishing the flowers, and I punctured the end of my index finger with a sharp wire. I felt no pain until Edward reached out to my hand and squeezed the blood through the tiny hole. Alice was beside him then, smiling as he traced red veins onto the white petals of the flower I had just folded. My finger was tingling almost painfully, and my pulse was thudding in my ears as each individual petal on that one flower was painted with red.

I looked into Edward's eyes as he moved my hand over the tissue paper. His eyes were smoldering coal: pitch black lined with filaments of burning red. I turned to Alice because suddenly I was alarmed. I looked into her eyes to tell her that something was wrong with Edward, but she had her eyes shut tight as she ripped at her clothes screaming that nothing fit right. She pulled on outfit after outfit, shredding each garment in succession and screaming uncontrollably about how wrong it all was.

I must have screamed because a scream woke me up. I gasped for breath for a few moments before I realized my hand was twisted up underneath me, and my fingers were asleep. I rolled over and released my hand. I let out a stuttering "Ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh" as the pins and needles set in. I tried shaking my hand out and taking a few deep breaths to calm myself. Then I lifted my sleeve to my nose and inhaled. Edward's scent was shimmering faintly around me. I was still wearing the clothes that he had held me in as I cried against him in the hallway. Even half asleep, I was reasonable and logical enough to admit to myself that I only smelled him now because of the lingering memory of his body against my clothes.

I got up and looked out the window. Charlie's cruiser was parked outside. He had come home at some point in the night as I slept. Dawn was creeping tentatively across the sky and drops of moisture dripped from every leaf I could see.

In school, Rose looked as though she hadn't slept. She wore jeans and her baggy Forks High sweatshirt. No words or notes passed between us in English. I looked over my shoulder at Edward a few times as well. He was scowling into the middle distance as though listening to far-away sounds. He also looked like he hadn't slept, but even so, exhaustion was gorgeous on him. I felt a sense of calm trickle through me just having him in the same room, permeating my senses in the subtlest ways.

On my way to the cafeteria for lunch, I stopped at my locker to gather my biology homework, and I nearly flew into a panic when I couldn't find the right folder. I dug through my bag frantically.

That's when I remembered I still had Edward's book.

I opened it, cradling it in my arm inside my locker, and pulled the loose papers out from where they had been stowed.

One of the papers was his biology homework, completed in his flawless penmanship. I wondered fleetingly how he could have finished it and shoved it into his book when it had only been assigned to us five minutes before our hasty departure from the classroom.

The next sheet of paper was covered in musical notes. I couldn't read them, and there were no lines like I normally associated as the proper background for those iconic black symbols. The notes were just suspended there in meticulously even rows across the page, their mysterious meaning a silent secret to my untrained eyes.

The last page was a mess of scribbles and sketches. The contrast between this sheet of paper covered in frantic scratches, compared to the elegant and calculated precision of the previous page I had perused was striking. I turned the page in every possible direction and each different view offered up a different fascination. Holding it horizontally, it was a pastoral landscape, sketched in pencil and depicting a sweetly sunlit meadow. Holding it upright, the crosshatched lines in indigo ink revealed an abstract portrait of a large predatory cat with haunches raised and ready to spring. These two drawings were as contrary to one another as this sheet of paper was to its predecessor. I stared in awe, tracing the lines his hands had drawn with my eyes.

And I noticed that the paper was creased in three places.

I folded the page along the faint lines, and my breath failed me as a new image fell into place on the page. I saw my own sleeping face rendered in delicate shadows wrought from an expertly wielded pencil.

There was my bed, my pillow, my quilt. There was my hair cascading across my neck and shoulder. There were my eyelashes against my cheek.

And suddenly there was a velvet voice behind me in the corridor.

"You have my book."

I turned slowly to face Edward. Up close, I could see the deep dark circles below his eyes and the grim set of his guilty mouth. The smell of him seized me, but I would not let myself be swept away. I drank it in greedily, but I kept a firm grasp on my senses and met his eyes with my gaze as steeled as I could make it.

I put the sheets of paper back into his biology text book and handed it to him without breaking eye contact. He took the book from me and remained standing before me, very still and very silently.

After several incalculable minutes of staring into each other's eyes, Edward said, "Bella, we need to talk."

I waited mutely for him to start talking. His eyes were dancing across my face, caressing my cheeks and eyelids and lips.

"We need to talk later," he breathed and then abruptly turned away, pausing before I could yell out for him to stop. "Mike Newton is on his wasy over here to ask you to be his date to Jasper's party," he added over his shoulder.

Huh? How could he know that? I was completely puzzled as I watched Edward walk away. I turned back to my locker, having completely forgotten what I had originally opened it for, I was staring vacantly into the disorganized mess of books when Mike came up beside me.

"Hey Bella." He touched my shoulder to get me to turn and face him rather than stare into my locker with my back to him. I looked up into his face and gave him a patient smile. "You look really great, Bella."

"Oh. Er, thanks." I looked down at my ratty jeans and snug grey sweater with a hole at the left elbow.

"I was wondering if you might want a ride out to the beach for Jazz's party this weekend?" He looked at me expectantly, the way a dog stares at the dinner table hoping someone will accidentally drop a pork chop onto the floor.

"Uh, maybe. I might be going with Rose. I'll look into it when I get to lunch, okay?" I gave him a small apologetic smile since I was brushing him off. Again.

He seemed more than okay with my stall for time, though. He smiled really widely and slapped his palms together before promissing to touch base in Biology about it.

Biology.

I had been looking for my bio homework. I quickly dug through my locker with no luck. My only other hope was that it was outside in my truck. I pulled my jacket on and yanked the hood up as I dashed for the exit that lead to the parking lot. I jogged over to my truck as quickly as possible, and of course I slid on the wet pavement two feet from my destination and landed hard on my ass in a puddle.

Thank God at least no one was around to witness my soggy humiliation.

"Bella? Are you alrihgt?" When I heard his voice I groaned. Edward was already helping me to my feet before I had even had a chance to feel EVERY bruise I had just cultivated. "Come on, I can get the heat running in my car for you." I let him lead me to the shiney silver Volvo parked a few rows over.

"What are you even doing here?" I didn't mean to sound ungrateful toward him, but I was seriously peeved that there HAD been a witness to my humiliation.

"I spend lunch in my car." he answered simply.

I had removed my wet jacket by then and was wishing I could remove my sodden jeans. "Anti-social much?"

He looked at me from the corner of his eyes and chuckled. "Touché, Miss Swan. I suppose I do fit the anti-social profile."

"I know a way you can take steps toward reclassification," I suggested as I held my damp sleeve in front of his heater vent.

"Pray tell."

"Are you planning to attend the party this weekend that Mike Newton just offered to chauffeur me to?"

He contemplated me for a moment. It wasn't very subtle of me, I know, and I'd never asked a guy out before, so I wasn't sure after I asked him if I had gone about it the right way. For the entire few seconds that he didn't answer me, I just sat there letting the dread of rejection build up in my head. Then he did answer. "It's very tempting, but I have a previous engagemt."

"Oh. That's too bad." I meant those words and looked into his eyes so he could not doubt my sincerity. I felt my face go hot and tried to cover my embarrassment at having just been turned down by feigning nonchalance. "What's so important that you're willing to miss the party of the year? Jazz is only 18 once, you know."

"I would go with you if I could, Bella."

"If you could?"

"I have plans with my sister."

"Oh." My sleeves were dying out by then, but my jeans were still wet. He had heated seats, though, and the toasty warmth was radiating through my bruised backside. "How did you know what Mike was going to ask me?"

Edward was still looking into my eyes. "Elementary."

I couldn't help the breathy giggle that escaped my throat. Elementary? Who is this guy: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?

"Why the fifty yard dash to your truck, anyway?" He was watching me squirm around, holding as many different parts of myself as possible up to the vents in the dash of his purring car.

"I asked you first. Enlighten me, Edward."

"Simple deduction." His eyes were burning into mine, and his voice was soft like lambswool. "If I were going to the party, I'd have asked you."

Oh, he was good. I suddenly learned that there really was no limit to my ability to blush. "So you logically concluded that Mike was going to ask me?" We were so close that I could feel the fine hair of my arms stand up from the power of the current that flowed between us.

"Naturally," He breathed. He looked like he might kiss my neck. Or bite it.

"I was looking for my biology homework." I really couldn't take much more of the tension, so I tried distracting myself by answering the question he had thrown at me before my skin had started buzzing from his proximity. I realized I was squirming in my seat, more because I was overcome by the strong pulse eminating from between my legs than because of the heated leather beneath me.

He didn't miss a beat. "Is it in your truck?"

"I'm not sure."

"Give me your keys."

So I gave him my keys without hesitation, and he ducked out into the cold wet midday slosh. I took a deep breath. I almost wish I was out in the cold shower too. I was breathing heavily, and I felt hot all over despite the fact that I was still drenched. I craned my neck to watch him lean into the cab of the truck. He emerged a few seconds later with the red folder I had been looking for. He glided back to his car and materialized gracefully beside me again, offering up the prize.

"Now I owe you twice, Edward. Thank you." I spoke directly at my folder, no longer capable of trusting myself while looking into his eyes.

"You're very welcome. And you owe me nothing." I felt him staring intently at me. Despite the fact I couldn't look at him, I tried concentrating on a positive: I was so proud of myself for being able to drink in his smell without turning into a giddy innebriate.

Then my brain betrayed me by wanting something from him. "Ah," I leaned forward toward him a little, "But you still owe me..." I let the word hang unspoken. Let him sweat it out. Crap. I started sweating instead. So much for keeping control. The drunkennes of propinquity was beginning to take over again. I almost forgot what I was saying when he leaned in toward me. Gah! Not the almost-touching again. He was killing me.

"Still owe you what?" His easy steamy velvet voice floated into my ears, and I leaned forward a little farther in spite of myself.

"You still owe me an explanation of that drawing." Ha! Victory! I spoke English AND managed to stick the knife in.

His breath was on my face as we leaned dangerously close to one another. "Later," he whispered, and my brain filled with a fog. I sat there completely dazzled and silent with my pulse pounding in my ears until he leaned away a few minutes later.

"We need to go or we'll be late for class." He opened his door and stepped out. I watched him walk toward the building, his perfect form perfectly gliding in a perfectly straight line. So much for sticking the knife in. He totally won that round.

_A/N: I seriously hate asking for reviews, but if this story is holding your interest, please comment for me._


	11. Chapter 11

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter 11: Memorial

Edward studiously ignored me throughout biology. He kept his attention focused astutely on Mr. Banner and the thrilling life cycle of the luna moth. Occasionally I thought I saw him glance my way, but anytime I shifted my eyes to try to catch him in my peripheral vision he was the portrait of the attentive scholar.

I kept thinking of how close we had just been. Were we close to kissing? I couldn't tell. We were close, at least. Very close. My body was still warm and damp and buzzing.

When the bell rang, I watched Edward stand, put his pen in his pocket, and pick up his book. His eyes finally fell onto my face, and my breath caught as he looked at me. I felt my face flush, and his pupils seemed to dilate to pitch as my heart sped up. I wanted to stop him from leaving my side, but my brain couldn't make my mouth work to say it. I sat there mutely as his eyes danced over my face and down the line of my hair that draped my neck. I saw his tongue touch the inner edge of his teeth through his tantalizingly parted lips. I thought he might speak. Instead, he turned. This entire set of movements probably took him about a second in a half, but once again, I was so entranced by him that my brain processed it all in slow-motion. I wished I could pause and rewind that sneak peek of his tongue a few dozen times.

After he walked out of the room, I scrambled to collect my book and papers and bag and pen. I dropped the pen twice before giving myself a mental slap. I needed to calm down. I made myself take two deep breaths and then set all my things down. I carefully loaded everything into my bag and slung it over my shoulder as I set out to ask Rose if she minded riding to the beach the next day with Mike.

Mike was ecstatic about car-pooling. It was so easy to make him happy. In fact, his easy good nature only compelled me to be even nicer to him. Since Rose lived in the opposite direction from his house to the beach, I offered to swing by and pick her up and then leave my truck at his place while we were at the party. This suggestion made him practically giddy. I sighed internally, suddenly feeling like it was going to be a very long afternoon with Mike the faithful and exuberant puppy dog bouncing around nipping at my heels with his tongue lolling out.

I was happy to get into my truck and drive home at the end of that day. My nerves were frayed and I felt drained. The past two days had been a whirlwind of Edward-induced giddiness peppered with the tense stress of the break-in. I was yawning as I pulled into my driveway. I threw my bag down inside the door and kicked off my damp shoes. I had so much going through my head. I needed to sort my thoughts out. I needed to think about Edward and Alice and the first scary crime that had happened in Forks in years. Sure it had only been a break-in at a deserted house, but it was such a direct attack on Alice. That made absolutely no sense. She was sweet. She had no enemies. Aside from Jessica, Alice had never so much as spoken sharply to anyone. Crime of passion? What passion? Who was around to be passionate about Alice aside from me? And Rose? And possibly Jazz. She was never really close with anyone else the whole time I had known her. She had no family that she knew of- or at least that she ever mentioned. All she had was William: the crazy plant guy who went out into the forest every other weekend on extended sample-collecting expeditions. Who the hell would break into her room and take her stuff?

I reasoned skeptically that it could have been pure theivery without the passion part that Charile had suggested. There was nothing much of value in the house aside from the plants, not that I was aware of anyway. I had never been into William's bedroom or study. I imagined there was just more plants and books. He certainly didn't dress to impress. His battered old Suburban hadn't survived the wreck. The greenhouse equipment was probably quite expensive, but what would a theif be able to do with it all? It would take trucks and strong arms and plenty of time to get the equipment out anyway. There was a ten-year-old television in the living room. No. Really the only stuff in the house that a theif would reasonably want to steal would be Alice's clothes. She loved to hit the outlets, and she was a genius at finidng special pieces to mix and match. She had a chic style, despite the fact that she didn't have much money to put into it.

My brain was working a million miles a minute to organize all of my thoughts. I wished I had a sounding board to bounce the ideas off of. I half thought of calling Rose to hash it out, but somehow I couldn't bother myself with digging my phone out of my bag and hitting the buttons. I wished I could talk to Alice about it; she was always so easy to talk to when I had heavy thoughts on my mind. Rose was lovely and fun, but she just wasn't quite my Best Friend the way Alice was, and she was too prone to interject and create more questions than she helped yo resolve.

Suddenly I remembered my journal. I hadn't written in it since before the pneumonia. I hadn't been compelled to write my thoughts about Alice because I couldn't command the words that would have conveyed my reactions and processes and feelings while my soul was flayed and raw. But suddenly I needed to write things down. I could write as though I were speaking to Alice. I could imagine her answers to my questions, her prompts to my stutterings, her comfort to my pain. I ran up the stairs and shut myself into my room to write.

I was surprised by a gentle knock on my bedroom door. I looked up as Charlie peeked his head in. "You okay, Bells?"

"Yeah. I'll be down to get dinner in a minute."

"You sure? You look pretty busy." He watched me scribbling through pages. I knew that the modern way to keep a journal was online: sending thoughts to hang ephemerally in cyberspace. Too bad my computer couldn't handle the pressure. Then again, I liked the feel of my pen gliding over a clean sheet. I liked the scratchy noise that eeked out when a speck of fluff got caught under the roller ball. I liked the bruise-like stain that the ink left on the knuckle of my smallest finger as I worked across the page in furious haste.

"Yeah. Just give me a minute. I'm going to make that chicken casserole you like." I heard him shut the door softly and make his heavy-footed way back down the stairs.

I was slightly irritated when he knocked on my door again a minute later. I looked up as he opened my door with a plate in one hand and a glass in the other. I paused from writing as he walked toward me and set two slices of pizza and a glass of juice on my desk.

"You ordered pizza? I was about to make dinner."

"That was two hours ago, kiddo. I got hungry."

Huh? I looked incredulously at my clock. I looked down at my journal and stretched my fingers that were tingling with pain and numbness.

"Take a break, Bells. Eat something." He retreated from my room tensely. He didn't ever know what to do when I acted "weird." His method for handling mood swings was avoidance. I sighed and cracked all of the knuckles of my fingers loudly. Then I stretched, and my back popped a couple of times, too. I moved my neck from side to side, and the muscles burned from the way I had been holding myself for the past four hours since I had gotten home.

I took a slice of pizza and thumbed through my journal to the last entry I had made before tonight.

The page told me that I had been tired. I felt weary and a little achey and couldn't stop yawning. I had been staying up late stressing over the upcoming debate tournament, going over the notecards, cross-referencing, re-writing anything illegible. I was only an alternate, but even so, I had worried that enough people might not show up to the meet, and I'd be forced to stand at a podium and argue the topics I had been researching. This was before Alice and Rose had pressured me about the poetry thing. I had completely forgotten about that.

My life had been so normal five weeks ago. I was an average high school student with average worries, a best friend, a sleepover planned, and two more Acts of A Midsummer Night's Dream to read.

These memories almost seemed like they belonged to someone else. I chewed through a slice of pizza and thought about how insignificant all of my previous angst had been. Compared to losing Alice, even my worst day before the tragedy was a frolick. A frolick with puppies and kittens.

Everything that had been important before now seemed trivial. I mused on how deeply my outlook had been changed by the tragedy that had struck my life. I was now scarred. A piece of my innocence had been stolen away by the horror of the experience of losing my beloved friend and confidante. My sister. I could never go back. I could never recapture the way that any of the things in my jornal entries before her death had felt. Those thoughts were now memories, faded and yellow. Foreign and untouchable. I'd never again contemplate insignificant things like school competitions and my plans for the weekend in the same way. Life had a new gravitas.

I put my journal away and took my empty plate downstairs. Charlie eyed me cautiously when I stopped in the living room to tell him I was going to bed.

The catharsis of spilling my soul into my journal left me weary, both mentally and physically. My muscles ached from the awkward position I had been sitting in as I wrote for too long. Reliving the encounter with Edward on the written page also had me wound up like a jack-in-the-box one tick away from exploding. As I lay in bed, the intermittant howl of the north wind through the trees didn't help with my restlessness, and sleep eluded me for most of the night. I dozed in fits and starts, shifting between being too hot and too cold as the heater went through its cycles and my subconscious conjured up images of Edward's eyes, Edward's mouth, Edward's face, so close to mine.

When dawn's feeble glow began to turn the objects in my room from looming masses of dark into blobs of grey, I decided I couldn't take trying to sleep any more. I dragged myself into the bathroom for a shower, hoping it would either invigorate me into starting my day or relax my jittery muscles into submission. The hot water, strawberry shampoo, and extremely chilly air that slapped into me when I threw open the shower curtain took me down the path of invigoration. I shivered into my robe and wrapped a towl around my hair as quickly as possible so I could run back into my comparatively warmer bedroom.

I climbed onto my bed and pulled my quilt up around me and grabbed my phone to check for any missed messages. Rose had texted the night before to let me know she'd be ready by eleven. It wasn't even quite seven yet. I tried closing my eyes to see if I could doze under my duvet, but I was a bit too cold from being wet and too awake from the shower; and when I heard some noisy birds having fits outside, I finally gave up on trying to sleep. I stood in front of my window as I vigorously rubbed the water from my hair with the towel. I saw the trees shivering at the edge of the wood, though the branches of the tree outside my window were perfectly still. The wind had blown itself out in the night, but the sun didn't look likely to brighten our beach party. I still felt agitated as I ran a comb through my hair and pulled on my jeans and thick socks and long-sleeved tee and wool sweater and baggy sweatshirt. I couldn't imagine how I was going to pass the time until the day had matured enough for me to show up at Rose's house. I took time blowing my hair straight, though I knew I'd only end up pulling it back under my hood all day. I found a soft cashmere scarf in the closet to wrap around my throat. I'd look like the Michelin Man in all the layers, but I wasn't about to catch a chill on the beach again and end up in that hospital bed for another week.

I grabbed a bowl of cereal and sat drearily at the kitchen table. Charlie clomped down the stairs and started making coffee at a quarter to eight. He eyed my ensemble, the thick layers and the scarf draped over the back of my chair. "Going outside today?"

"Jazz's birthday. I told you about it last week."

He frowned. "I don't want to find out about any drinking or smoking- of ANY kind. And I don't want you sitting out in the cold all damn day."

I was careful not to roll my eyes at him. "Dad, I'm fine. And I'll be bundled. And you know I'm not going to do anything stupid." I put my bowl in the sink and poured myself a mug of coffee while Charlie was tossing a couple of slices of bacon into his cast iron skillet. The only thing he knew how to cook was bacon and eggs, and he cooked them every single morning. I eyed his gradually expanding midsection dubiously. I wondered what all the cholesterol was doing to his insides. I had tried to talk him into fruit and cereal and yoghurt for breakfast, but he had scoffed the suggestions away firmly.

I sat with him in companionable silence for a moment before I realized he was wearing his uniform. "You're working? On a Saturday?"

"The country sherriffs are coming in with their CSI guy. They dusted the house for prints yesterday." He kept his eyes on the slice of toast he was buttering. I knew he was hesitant to talk to me about the break-in. He had clearly attributed the previous evening's odd behavior as my wild overreaction to the scary event that I was taking too personally.

"Any leads?" I couldn't help asking for info even though I knew I'd be pushing his patience.

"Bella, I told you I would let you know. Let us finish the investigation." His words were firm and his tone was final.

I decided to make nice with him by offering to wash his breakfast dishes along with my own so he could be on his way to meet the investigator. I told him I'd be back around seven. I couldn't imagine staying at the beach much past dark in the November chill.

The empty house was full of small noises. I heard the furnace ticking as the metal heated up for another cycle. Almost immediately the vents started hissing as the warm air escaped into the room. The refrigerator was making its usuall low moaning noise, and the hot water heater was working to replenish the supply I had just used up in my dishwashing. The old clock on the mantle in the living room was ticking like a cartoon bomb, and the basement door did that occasional shuddering thing that it does when the heater goes on and off because the air below the house is so much colder than the air on the upper levels.

The insignificant cacophany was driving me mad. I wrapped the scarf around my neck, grabbed my coat and ran out to my truck. It actually wasn't as cold outside as I had thought it would be. Or maybe I was just so very bundled that I couldn't feel it.

I didn't know where I was going to go or what I was going to do to pass the time until the day had matured enough for me to show up at Rose's place, so I just drove aimlessly at first, waiting for the engine to heat up enough that when I turned the heat on the air would actually come out warm instead of icy.

I was surpised when I braked gently for an old man who was crossing the road and noticed that I was in front of Forks Memorial Cemetery.

The old man shuffled along, slightly hunched over, with a black umbrella in one hand and a small bouquet of yellow flowers wrapped in stiff clear plastic in the other. His bald head was crowned with a thin ring of cottony white hair, and his trousers threatened to slide down his hips and pool around his ankles at any moment. I sat in my idling truck for almost a full minute as he crossed the road, and then I watched him pass through the decorative iron gates. Without hesitating, I pulled forward and parked my truck at the side of the road a few yards from the entrance to the cemetery.

I hadn't been here in almost a month.

I was breathing deliberately as I passed through the gates. I was shaking a little. I hated these reactions, though, so I fought against them. I just wanted to see if there was some kind of connection to my friend to be found here. Like in the movies. Like when Batman visits his parents' graves and is able to speak with them there and find focus inside his messed-up mind, if not comfort.

I saw the old man sitting on a bench several hundred feet away with his bouquet on his knees. I decided to walk along the path perpindicular to him in order to avoid disturbing his solitary meditation. I had no idea where Alice might be. The place was a maze. I let my eyes trail across some weatherbeaten stones as I strolled along. Some of the dates marked the passing of loved ones over a hundred years ago. Some of the names had dropped off the popularity charts for new parents long ago: like Margaret, Alastair, and Walter. Newer monuments in polished granite with deeply and evenly etched phrases of elegant rememberance stood in stark contrast to the low, mossy, grey markers that represented the oldest families in Forks.

The atmosphere was tranquil, and I felt a sense of serenity began to wash through me as I strolled. I was away from the noises of my house and my truck and even my busy mind. I felt freer than I had in quite a while as I strolled amongst the dead.

The movement of another figure walking through the intermingling pathways caught my attention from the corner of my eye. At first I only glanced up automatically and lowered my eyes to go back to my musing, but I did a double take. He was on a small hill in the middle of a set of stone buildings. I supposed they were crypts or mausoleums or whatever those things are called. There were four of the structures, each surrounded by flowering shrubs and vines. A path from each led up the little hill, marking its peak with an X. The man who stood at the crossroads was breathtaking. He wasn't really my "type" so I couldn't tell at first why he captivated my attention in that way, but as I watched him, I found his majestic profile really striking. He had straight dirty blond hair billowing just past the shoulders of his glowing red leather jacket. I wondered how he was warm enough without an overcoat and scarf in November. As he slowly rotated at the top of the hill, taking in his surroundings, maybe trying to get his bearings (as I should also have been doing), he looked stunningly graceful and alluring. He wasn't tall or big or really handsome. He was on the scruffy side, with his longish hair and a bit of stubble on his face, but altogether he presented a picture that I found strangely magnetic.

"Bella?"

I jumped. I literally jumped at the voice behind me. I saw the man on the hill look over toward me at the same time that I heard the low voice, though he shouldn't have been able to hear it from there. My hand rose to my throat as I tried to recover from the surprise and turn around to see who owned the voice that had just interrupted my study of the stranger on the hill.

Jazz was standing two feet from me on the path I had just been strolling along.

"Jazz!" I breathed. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry Bella. I thought you'd have heard me walking up." He glanced at the guy on the hill, which made me look back over my shoulder. He was clearly looking at us. "Do you know that guy?"

"No." I shook my head. The weird daze I had just been in as I ambled amongst the tombstones and then stared at the stranger was broken. I could hear birds twittering in the distance, and as Jazz and I began to walk, our footsteps assaulted my ears with each crunch crunch crunch against the damp red gravel of the path. I really SHOULD have been able to hear him coming up behind me.

"I saw your truck parked outside," he explained his presence. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Jazz smiled rather tragically onto my face, and I moved my lips a little, though they wouldn't smile for him.

"I just wanted to talk to Alice." My voice was small. It came out sounding like a guilty confession.

But Jazz didn't judge, "Yeah, I know what you mean. I was thinking about this the other night."

"You were?"

"I miss her a lot. And ever since you told me... what you told me... I've been thinking about her so much." He was looking at the ground. His long lashes guarding his eyes from me. I wondered if they would be wet. "It's so weird when she doesn't show up at the store." He let a melancoly huff escape his lips.

I put my hand on his arm, and we walked together in easy silence for a few minutes before he halted. I looked up, and I saw a clean white marble stone inscribed in a simple, elegant script:

_CHERISHED WITH EVERLASTING LOVE_

_**Mary Alice Brandon**_

_Eadem mutata resurgo_

Where I had expected the same rumpled oblong of dark earth that I had seen here before the headstone had been set in place, I was overwhelmed to find a plethorae of flowers and multi-hued greenery.

"It looks like they planted an entire greenhouse on top of her," Jazz mused in a hushed tone of awe at the beautiful and vibrant living monument to our lost friend. "I wonder what that means, though," he added with a gesture at the ghostly slab of marble.

After a moment of contemplation, I murmured, "The Latin? I have no idea." I watched as Jazz pulled out his phone from his jeans and snapped a photo of the marble marker.

"I'll look it up later."

We stayed silent for a while. As much as I had been looking forward to my Batman moment of a private chat with Alice, I didn't mind Jazz's company in the least. It was almost comforting to share this with him. When his phone buzzed I lifted my head almost lazily. I smirked at the contrast of my present state of serenity compared to the way I jumped out of my skin earlier when Jazz had surprised me while I had been intently regarding the stranger.

I looked around then, remembering that we hadn't been alone before. Jazz was talking to Emmett. I gathered that he had been on his way to Emmett's house when he stopped off upon finding my truck outside the cemetery gates. As I glanced over his shoulder, I shivered involuntarily. The guy in the red leather jacket had obviously followed us over to this side of the cemetery, and he was watching us. And now that he was closer and looking directly into my eyes, I felt totally creeped out. His eyes were completely bloodshot; even from fifty feet away I could tell they were red. And he was practically sneering toward us. I didn't get it. We hadn't disturbed him. We weren't speaking loudly or being disrespectful. What the fuck was his issue?

Jazz shoved his phone into his pocket and turned toward me with his mouth poised to say something, but he stopped when he caught my face, and he spun around. He met the creep's gaze for a moment and then reached his hand out for mine. "Let's get out of here," he suggested in a low voice.

I nodded and took one last lingering look at Alice's resting place. Jazz kissed his fingertips and touched the top of the marble stone as he led me away.

Before turning the corner of the path toward the exit, I looked over my shoulder once more, and my breath completely stopped. The creepy stranger was at Alice's monument, and he was leaning into the stone, SNIFFING it. I nudged Jazz in the ribs and he followed the line of my scowl. He said nothing but quickened his pace a little.

Jazz walked me to my truck and opened my door for me. I thanked him with a small smile and then remembered, "Happy birthday, Jazz." He grinned at me and nodded in silent thanks, and he stood like a sentry by my door as I started the noisy old engine. He tapped the hood (reassuringly?) as I put the truck in gear, and he watched me pull away from the gate and accelerate away.

Once I had put a little distance between myself and the weirdo, I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check the time. It was already half past ten. I had spent a lot longer wandering through the underworld than I had realized. I decided it was safe enough to go on to Rose's house. I would get a cup of tea and warm up and use the bathroom while I waited for her to get ready. Luckily she was already out of the shower when I rang her doorbell, so my plan went smoothly. While Rose primped for the beach party, I sat in her bright sunny kitchen with a steamy cup of mint tea and concentrated on shuffling off the willies.

She emerged from her bedroom at eleven precisely, dressed like a snow bunny in tight pink ski pants and a sensually puffy white faux fur jacket. I couldn't help but smile. I didn't know anyone else who could manage to look stunningly sexy while dressed appropriately for a forecast of forty-degrees with occasional gusty ocean breezes.

We were still way too early to meet Mike, so Rose suggested a stop at the supermarket for some party snacks that weren't covered in neon orange cheese powder. It was a good idea. When guys were in charge of snacks, there was an inevitability of funky aftertastes and discolored fingertips.

When we eventually pulled into the parking lot of Mike's parents' sporting goods store where we had arranged to meet, the sun was winking at us from between the clouds like a tease. I let Rose have shotgun, and I stretched out in the back of Mike's car with my jacket rolled up behind my head. The restless night and major creep-out stress had knocked me off my feet a bit. I was glad for the opportunity to relax instead of having to navigate my unweildy beast of a truck around the tight narrow curves that stretched along the sheer ciffs for two miles on the way to the beach.

I was staring lazily out the window when a patch of bright color against the dull stone mountainside of the roadway caught my attention.

"What's that?" As we got closer, I could see that it was some kind of grafitti plastered all over the rock wall.

"Slow down." I said to Mike. "What is that mess?" I could tell then that there were flowers and banners and pictures fluttering all over the side of the road.

"It's the memorial," Rose said in a hushed voice as Mike slowed his car's pace slightly.

"Mike! Stop!" Why was my spine feeling all tingly? "What memorial?"

"Bella, I don't think we should really stop here. You don't wanna see this." Mike said tentatively.

"Stop the car!" I yelled, grabbing at the door handle. Damn child-safety locks.

Rose's voice was almost a whisper. "I don't want to stop, Bella."

But Mike had already pulled over and slowed. There was a very narrow shoulder on the cliff side of the road. "Open the fucking door!" I think I scared him because he halted the car with a jolt and released the locks. I crawled over to the door that didn't open with a sheer drop into the crashing ocean waves a hundred feet below, and I got out of the car to inspect the colorful tribute that had been duct taped around a black scorch mark on the rocky mountain face.

There were greeting cards, small pastel teddy bears, silk flowers, wilted remnants of once-fresh flowers, Alice's year-book photo reproduced a million times with messages scrawled under her smile, and a large tattered white banner that hung tackily in the breeze blaring "WE MISS YOU ALICE!" in garish red vinyl letters. I reached up and started ripping everything down.

By the time Mike got to me and pinned my arms to my sides, my knuckles were scraped and bleeding, and hot tears were streaming down my face. Someone was incessantly yelling, "Who did this? Who did this?" in a choked, husky voice. I realized after Mike had stilled my flailing arms that the yelling had come from me.

I was half aware that he dragged me back to the car and settled me into the back seat. My mind was racing as my body shook. Who the hell were all these "mourners" who had never spent an afternoon with Alice? Who were all the people who photocopied her face out of the yearbook and littered the roadside with their phony grief? Where had all these "friends" been while she was alive? I felt nauseous. So many people had used Alice's death as an excuse to gather together and do tacky little art projects. They had used her as a crutch for their pathetically broken ideal of "community." They had betrayed her memory by pretending to have loved her.

I was still sobbing when Mike parked amidst a small crowd of other cars at the beach. I was vaguely aware of Rose dabbing at my hands with a Wet Wipe. Mike left the engine running for the heater and stared straight ahead of himself out the windshield.

I realized after a while that I was freaking out, and I became ashamed and contrite. I worked to get my emotions under control, and the three of us sat in stunned and painful silence for several minutes before Mike turned off the car and mumbled that he would go and get me some water. He retreated in haste. I was breathing heavily and blowing my nose into one of Rose's thick, pink tissues while she stroked my hair and kept her cautious eyes on my face, clearly fearing another outburst. But I was calmer now. And I had questions.

"Why is all that shit up on the cliffs, Rose?"

She looked at me. Just looked. For a while I didn't think she was going to respond to my question at all, but then she said, "What do you mean, B?"

"Why there? It's a weird place to leave a memorial for her."

Rose kept looking at me with concern creasing her perfect forehead, "That's where the wreck happened," she answered simply.

Huh? It had never occurred to me that the accident had taken place outside of town. In fact, I had never given the actual accident itself any thought. I was too preoccupied by the tragic outcome to contemplate the occurrence. "Why were they driving out there?" I asked the question of my own weary mind, but my voice had given it life.


	12. Chapter 12

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Twelve: Happy Birthday

_Why were they driving out there?_

When William had grabbed Alice from the hospital that day, I had assumed he was taking her home. I had never had the opportunity to contemplate his freak-out. Now my head was full of it. And aside from what, why, and who, now I was also wondering where. Where? Where the hell were they headed? Why did he flip out in the first place? Who had he been talking about when he delivered the weird message that I never had a chance to pass on to Dr. Cullen? What happened to cause that big scorch mark on the side of the mountain up on the cliff road?

Rose climbed out of the car as my head went through these unanswerable questions. She opened my door for me and tugged at my wrist to get me to stand up. I let her lead me toward the bonfire, but we were stopped half way by a blue pickup pulling up in front of us, blocking our access to the sand.

"Well!" Rose's voice was delighted, "If it isn't the HANDSOME McCarty brother!"

I didn't recognize the guy driving, but Emmett got out of the passenger side and walked around with a smile on his face. "Leave my big brother alone, Blondie. He's taken."

"Wait a sec, Em. I don't know if I'm THAT taken," he laughed while giving Rove the up and down leer.

This conversation- this flirtation… it all seemed so NORMAL. All three of them seemed carefree and happy like young people should be. I felt the frown that creased my forehead, but my ears were still a little buzzy from yelling so loudly a short time ago. I felt exhausted from the crying, and yet I had to stand there, trying with all my might to blend into the normalcy of the current conversation. I felt like an alien.

_"Tell Carlisle that he's here, and I took Alice away."_ I replayed that phrase in my mind, surprised that I had not been replaying it hourly for the past month. Who was here? I couldn't remember Alice saying anything out of the ordinary. She and Rose had just come from school. Who had frightened William so badly that he physically grabbed Alice from my hospital room in the middle of the afternoon?

In front of me, Emmett and his brother were lifting a beer keg out of the back of the pickup. "The birthday boy never showed up, so I had to enlist some help to get the party supplies delivered," Emmett explained to Rose with a jerk of his chin toward his slightly taller, slightly handsomer, older brother. Rose openly ogled the pair of them as they worked, and she followed them toward the bonfire on the beach once they had the beer out of the truck. I followed along like the sad little caboose at the end of a happy train.

About thirty people were already there, huddled near the large fire with thermoses of hot beverages and cheerful party faces. Someone had a CD playing some bouncy, guitar-driven pop in the background, and bags of Cheetos were being passed around.

Everyone cheered once the keg was tapped and beer was flowing. Blue plastic cups were passed around, and a line formed in front of Emmett.

Rose walked his brother back to his truck. Despite Emmett's invitation to stay, he'd professed disinterest in "hangin' with a bunch o' kids." I took a seat on one of the worn out driftwood benches that surrounded the fire pit and tried to let the festive energy seep through my mood.

When a blue cup hovered in front of my eyes for a moment, I debated taking it. With a sigh, I raised my eyes and found the one thing that really could sap the negativity from my spirit.

"Jake!" We shared brilliant smiles, and I stood to hug him rather than taking the cup. He had one in his other hand as well, so for once, I wasn't crushed like a penny on a railroad track. He hugged as well as he could with his forearms, and I tugged him down to sit with me on the bench. We tapped out plastic cups together with a dull little click and soft laughter, and I pulled a face after a deep gulp of the beer. "Ugh!"

Jacob laughed at me shamelessly, "Aw, take it like a man, Bells."

"YOU take it like a man. This is awful." I couldn't get my lips to unsnarl.

"It's an acquired taste. After the first cup, it'll taste fine." He teased me and swallowed the rest of his beer in one gulp.

"If my dad finds out you were drinking, you'll be dead, Jake," I warned him before he could get up for a refill. He smiled at me and shook his head as he sauntered over to the keg to refill his cup. He came back to where I was sitting in three easy strides and nudged me with his shoulder as he resumed his spot.

"If your dad finds out YOU were drinking, we'll ALL be dead," he laughed. I couldn't help but laugh as well. Jake's smile was so warm and intoxicating. For a moment, it felt to me like he was the only thing in the world that hadn't changed in the past month.

Rose reappeared then. She glowed in the white light that filtered through the clouds. She had a smile that rivaled Jake's, and I noticed that more than a few pairs of eyes were captivated by her movements as she got the boy closest to the keg to show her how to dispense the beer. I knew that she knew how to do it, but I also knew that feigning helplessness while batting her eyelashes and touching her lips in a thoughtful way were totally Rose's superpowers. The testosterone concentration in the air around the fire pit rose palpably. I smiled to myself and took another sip of the awful bitter piss-in-a-cup.

"Wow," Jake murmured. I looked at him, a pang of jealousy (huh?) sparking for a moment before I noticed that he wasn't wowing Rose. I followed his eyes to see that he was staring at his friend Quil who was staring at Rose. Quil's mouth was slightly open, and his eyes were fixed and glassy. He licked his lips as Rose lifted her cup to her mouth for her first sip.

"Yeah. Hunh." I replied to Jacob's monosyllabic expression. We exchanged a wry glance and a shrug with each other and refocused on catching up.

"So are you a crasher or were you invited?" I asked him knowingly.

He smiled like a kid who's been caught playing a practical joke on a friend. "We saw them setting up and didn't think anyone would notice a couple extras."

I snorted at that. "You thought no one would notice YOU? You guys are too big to fly under the radar, Jake." We both laughed.

"Yeah well, no one is kicking us out yet." He nodded pointedly toward Rose who was engaged in a deeply amusing conversation with Quil.

"Yeah. Hide behind the girls. Good idea, Jake," I teased.

He used that as his invitation to throw his arm around me and pull me to his flank. "So what've you been up to, Bella? I haven't seen you since my dad's birthday."

I felt my face fall. Memories of the past month once again dragged themselves to the forefront of my mind. Jake caught the expression and squeezed me tightly for a moment. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay," I sniffed. I did NOT want to let myself cry at Jazz's party. "I've been thinking about Alice a lot."

"Yeah. I can imagine."

It occurred to me then that although I had been thinking about Alice constantly, I hadn't been talking about her- about her death, anyway. "Jake?" I paused, unsure of how to ask him anything about the accident that might have been on the local news. He looked at me with guarded eyes. I stalled for a moment by sipping at my beer. It really did taste less horrible already. I decided to go ahead and open the wound, "What do you know about the wreck?"

Jake's eyes widened momentarily, and it was his turn to stall for time by slugging back the remaining contents of his cup. He exhaled slowly. "What do you want to know?"

That's what I loved about Jacob. All of the rest of my friends, and my father as well, were always so cautious around me now. No one would have even considered having this conversation with me, and after one moment of deliberation, Jake determined that telling me the truth would be wiser that trying to protect me from it. I grabbed his hand and pulled him up from the seat. "Tell me everything you know," I murmured as I took his cup to the keg with mine and filled them both. I walked away from him, toward the sea, and he followed, holding out his hand for his cup when I stopped by a solitary outcrop of rock where we could sit in some privacy and talk.

"Well, you saw the memorial thing on the way up here?" I nodded so he would go on. "That's where the suburban burned. The newspaper said that the Maserati went over the cliff about eighty to a hundred feet from there."

"Maserati?" He had already lost me.

"The sports car." He said it like it would just clear everything up for me, so I look at him blankly and widened my eyes a little to clue him in to my ignorance. "Didn't you see the news report from when they were hauling it up out of the water?"

"No."

"It was a sweet ride," he mused. "Too bad it got smashed up." He shook his head and sat next to me finally, taking another long chug. "Well, what I read- and saw on the news- was that the sports car was trying to pass and ended up shoving the suburban up against the mountainside. The SUV bounced off the rock face and hit the Maserati, sending it over the cliff, and then William hit a tree growing up on out of the cliff side. He bounced and spun off the tree, plowing into the mountainside."

I had no words. It sounded like something out of a spy movie.

"And then the suburban exploded," he finished in a whisper.

I drained my cup without stopping for a breath. I wanted the numbness that should come from alcohol. Jake took the cup from my shaking hand and drew me into a tight embrace. I felt like I was unraveling from the inside out. Even through Jake's bare-bones recap of the events, I had pictured the sequence in my mind. I experienced it for myself.

After uncountable minutes in Jacob's warm arms, I pushed my face off of his chest to look at him. "How do you know all that? I mean, how does anybody know all that? Were there witnesses?" My voice was hoarse and choked.

"No. It was all like analysis of the skid marks and stuff."

"Oh." I nodded as though it made sense. Nothing made sense.

"I'll be here for you, Bells. Anything you need. Anytime. You know that, right?"

I looked up into his earnest eyes, his sincere face, and I nodded again. I blinked and looked around, forgetting for a moment why I was sitting out in the November chill on the beach. I saw the party and the fire sparkling cheerfully a few hundred yards away, and I remembered the numbness that I wanted so badly. I stood up, keeping Jake's hand in mine and took a tentative step back toward the mass of happiness.

He followed me. The look in Jake's eyes told me that he would follow me anywhere. I couldn't think about the amount of comfort I found in understanding what I meant to him. I couldn't try at that moment to comprehend what he might have meant to me. I needed to be numb.

We sat close to the fire again, drinking beer. I no longer noticed the bitterness. I no longer made faces as I swallowed. We sat side by side watching a few couples dance, listening to animated conversations, quietly enjoying the anecdotes that had other people howling in laughter.

"Where's the birthday boy?" Jake's voice cut into my daze.

I looked around. I saw Rose sitting by a second, smaller fire pit a few feet away, eating a burger and laughing at someone's joke. Quil was still by her side, clearly crushing on her. From the way she looked over at him every few seconds, I could tell that she was both pleased with what she saw and pleased with her effect on him.

My eyes kept scanning through the different clusters of party-goers, on the look-out for Jazz's tall frame and striking, wild, blond hair. I saw Emmett on his phone near the parking lot with a hand on his hip. His face was turned away from me, but from the set of his shoulders, I could tell that he wasn't enjoying his conversation.

I pivoted on my seat in order to look all the way around me. I scanned every head in the group and didn't see Jazz. "I don't' see the birthday boy." I turned back to Jake, "Why? Were you gonna give him a birthday kiss?"

Jake peered at me, contemplating my smirk. "Are you tipsy, Bells?"

"Do you want me to be?" I breathed. I was suddenly aware of how close he was to me, and how dark and warm his eyes were.

Jake shook his head and took the blue cup out of my hand.

"Hey!" I protested.

"Let's see if we can find some water for you," he answered. He pulled me up and guided me toward the circle where Rose was sitting. "Or some food," he amended once he smelled the aromas wafting up from the grill.

He deposited me onto a blanket next to Rose and started digging around through the giant pile of snacks while asking the guy at the grill if anything was up for grabs. I threw my arms around Rose (accidentally slapping Quil's shoulder in the process) and gave her a tight squeeze. Rose looked at me in bemused confusion for a moment before she put on her most incredulous voice. "Bella, have you been DRINKING?"

I started to giggle because her tone was just so funny. "Maybe a little," I confessed.

"Shocking!" she teased, as Jacob was retuning to us with a Coke and a bag of chips for me.

"You'll have some REAL food in a minute, Bells, but here's an appetizer."

I took the offerings from Jake and tried to tune in to Mike Newton's story about a pair of weird customers in the sporting goods store earlier in the day. Mike's amusing stories could put me to sleep even on a good day, so with the buzz of beer clouding my head, it was nearly impossible not to yawn.

I managed to stay awake through Mike's entertainment portion of the afternoon, and I ate in comfortable silence with Jake and Rose and Quil. More clouds had moved in, but they brought a little humidity, warming the air up just enough to save us from having to huddle.

Emmett was clearly WASTED when he trudged over to our little circle and tumbled onto the blanket with his head practically in Rose's lap. She laughed loudly and slapped him playfully, and Quil tensed up. It was weird.

It was Mike who broke the momentary awkward silence that settled over us when Rose picked up on Quil's jealousy vibe. "Where the hell is Jazz?"

Emmett shifted so that his head was directly on Rose's thigh rather than just near her legs, and sighed. "No one's seen him."

"What?" at least three of us asked.

"His mom says he left the house this morning to pick me up," Emmett shrugged. His speech was slow and little drawling from the alcohol. "But he never showed. Which is why I had to pay my brother a tank of gas to bring the keg up here."

"I saw him," I said. Suddenly everyone was looking at me. I dropped my eyes to my lap. "This morning. Before I picked up Rose," I explained. "I saw him at the cemetery," I stuttered.

Everyone looked stunned.

Jake swept a loose lock of my hair behind my ear. The gesture was comforting. His fingers were warm. "Why were you guys at the cemetery, Bells?"

I couldn't actually remember WHY we had been there. "It was just-" What? It was just what? "It wasn't planned. I just went in because I was passing by. And then Jazz found me inside. He said he stopped because he saw my truck."

Rose was sort of gaping at me. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Huh?" I looked at everyone's wide eyes. There was that protective vibe again. No one let Bella think about her dead friend! "I did say something. We had a conversation."

Emmett was confused, "What?"

"I had a conversation with him in the cemetery. It was…" I trailed off. It was "nice" wouldn't work. How could grieving be nice? "It was peaceful."

Jake squeezed my hand.

"No, Bella." Emmett sat up. "Why didn't you tell us you'd seen him?"

"I… I didn't realize he wasn't here til now."

"Did he mention that he'd changed his plans?"

"Uhh, no. Right after he got off the phone with you, we both left."

"That's it?"

I stared at Emmett. What did he want? I didn't have a homing device implanted in Jazz's shoe, for goodness sake. "Yeah. That's it."

Everyone was quiet again. The air was charged with tension. Emmett stood up, a little unsteadily, and sauntered over to the keg. After he filled his cup, he began walking a circuit, talking to everyone in the crowd. Well, everyone who wasn't busy making out.

A few couples were in serious tongue-lympics competitions.

Jake and Quil got up as well and briskly walked to the edge of the parking lot with their heads together in conversation.

Within minutes, the whole beach was buzzing with edgy conversation. No one had seen Jazz all day besides me. Emmett had left him about thirty texts and almost as many voice mails. We were all a bit freaked.

Jake strolled back to me, "Hey Bells, can I see your keys?"

Without asking why, I fished the keys to my truck out of my jacket pocket and handed them to Jake. He immediately shoved them deep into the pocket of his jeans. "Thanks," he smiled. "Now I can be sure you'll still be here when I get back."

"Hey!"

"No arguments. You're not safe to drive, Bella. Take it easy a while, and I'll give you the keys back later."

"Later? When? Where are you going?"

"Later." And with that declaration, he turned and joined Quil in a brisk walk toward the parking lot.

I sank down next to Rose who was now intently watching Emmett's drunken antics. He seemed to have forgotten Jazz completely, and he was dancing with a few other inebriates near the CD player. Lauren had her hands on his ass and her tits against his chest. He had one hand still occupied with a blue plastic cup, but the other was freely exploring any part of Lauren's torso he could reach. Rose's scowl spoke volumes.

I grabbed her shoulder, "Why aren't YOU dancing with him?"

"Too late now," she spat. To be fair, it looked like she was right. Their mouths were already clamped together, the firelight casting gruesome shadows across their distorted faces.

Rose got up in a huff and immediately knocked into Mike, who was stooping to pick up empty chip packets that were beginning to blow around. She grabbed his elbow and offered to help him with the garbage collection, to which he smiled. I was stunned to see the wide generous smile she returned to him. MIKE NEWTON? Oh God, Rosalie Hale, please no.

The two of them stumbled off over the beach, bent over to pick up bits of trash here and there. Their giggles bounced around on the breeze, and I gave up staring in wonderment and disbelief when I saw Rose squeeze Mike's ass when he bent over.

I sighed and let the uneasiness overtake me. I walked back to the slightly elevated rock perch where Jake and I had talked so that I could meditate peacefully in the late afternoon glow about Jazz and Rose and Alice. And Edward. He suddenly popped into my mind as my senses picked up on the fact that nearly everyone dotted along the beach was coupled up except me. I wished he were here. I wished I knew if he wished he were here or not.

I climbed to the top of the rock and let my fantasies overtake me. I thought about how good he smelled and how unbelievably sexy he looked. I let my imagination fixate on the little details that I couldn't dwell on when he was right in front of me, lest I jump on him in wanton lust.

I thought about the way his hair curled slightly behind his ear and at the nape of his neck. I thought about his neck and how the taut tendons undulated under his skin when he moved his jaw. I thought about his jaw and the way it seemed to be perpetually set slightly on edge as though he were wildly frustrated. I thought about helping him to deal with his frustrations.

I was lost in these lurid fantasies when a couple in a heated embrace collapsed in the sand below me, shielded from the rest of the crowd by my rock perch and oblivious to my presence.

--

a/n: I couldn't do another ENTIRE chapter without even mentioning Edward. If you're still with me, please leave a comment. Thanks!


	13. Chapter 13

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Thirteen: Beach Blanket Bingo

I had never been drunk before. I wasn't even sure if I was drunk. How can you tell if you're drunk? I couldn't feel my lips, so I must have been drunk. I'll go with that because there's really no other explanation for my behavior.

Rob and Kris were lip-locked as usual. I could see the top of his tousled head as he hovered over her. I scooted onto my knee to watch them. I didn't really mean to be nosey; I fully intended to say something to embarrass them out of their heavy make-out session, but as soon as I could see over the edge of the rock, I noted Rob's mouth hungrily nipping at Kris's exposed stomach, and I froze before a sarcastic comment could fully form on my lips.

I heard small noises: whimpering, smacking, the whoosh of a zipper being ripped away. "Here, let me put my coat under you."

"I want- nguyh, Rob- I want to be on top."

I saw him lift her up like a rag doll, her sweater still bunched under her armpits. "You'll be warmer this way," he insisted. He attacked her mouth while easing her head back onto his parka which served as their makeshift love nest.

"You'll be cold," she protested between mouthfuls of his lips.

"Not possible." He fell down lower against her body, and their kisses presumably got deeper as they got louder. There were now low grunts to add to their lustful symphony. I leaned my hands against the rock. I felt no shame watching them. I felt no worry about being caught there. It was like watching TV, like they weren't even real.

I saw Rob bury his face in his girlfriend's chest again. Her fingers tangled into his hair as his hands slid down her torso. Even in the dim light, I could see every move they each made. My eyes were dilated with vicarious lust, and my own breaths were as shallow as Kristen's.

I looked on as Rob slid his fingertips over the crotch of her jeans, lingering between her legs for a time. I could almost feel it.

I saw her hands fluttering over his shirt, caressing his shoulders and chest alternately while he moved back up her body again to plant kisses across her throat. He supported himself on one arm, and his free hand stayed on her breast. My own hands were curved into claws with my tense fingers digging into my knees.

Rob went for the zipper on her jeans, and Kris immediately moved her hands to the waistband to help him slide the denim off of her hips.

"Ugh. My boots. Get the damn boots," she breathed. Rob immediately sat up on his knees and tugged at her feet. First her left boot and then the right came off and were set aside in the sand. I watched mesmerized. I knew they had been together for months, but aside from the fact that they were constantly making out in the halls, it had never occurred to me that they had such an active relationship. Kris was the quiet type, an office aide, honor society; she kind of reminded me of me. And here she was on the cold ground at the tail end of a bombed party disrobing eagerly in the darkness.

Together, she and Rob pulled her jeans away. I saw his hands pull her ankles toward his waist as he lowered his mouth back to hers. Her fingers resumed their position in his tangled hair. Her small noises took on a more fevered tenor.

She moved her right hand down his chest, trailing her fingers along his stomach. I watched as her small hand slipped into his jeans. I heard a low, guttural sound crawl up out of the depth of his throat, and his own hands moved to tug her underwear away. She lifted her hips to allow him to slide the panties off, and he threw them at her boots before opening the fly of his jeans.

I stopped breathing when I saw his hand reach into the front of his jeans. He was hard. I had never seen a real life erection before, and I was too stunned to look away as he hovered over her touching himself. He dove forward again, and rested his weight on his left elbow while the fingers of his left hand stroked the brown hair that fanned out around Kirsten's head. His right hand moved between her legs, and then I saw him position himself against her.

She and I gasped at the same time, but as she clutched at his hips, he looked up at me.

I was locked in Rob's gaze, unable to blink or move or look away. His eyes were black and glossy with lust. At first, he seemed to look right through me, but as I stared, a small smile erupted over half of his handsome face. I was caught and frozen. I saw Kris wrap her legs tight around him as he hovered, waiting. His eyes stayed on me as he began to move. Her noises gained a little volume. Her hands pulled at his shirt. He watched my face.

His eyes were no more than six feet from mine.

I wondered what my face looked like.

He couldn't keep his eyes locked on me forever, but I just couldn't look away, even when he threw his mouth against her again. He almost looked like a ravenous monster devouring her flesh. He even chewed her hair as their passion became more frenzied. Occasionally he would glance back up into my eyes, registering neither surprise nor irritation that I could not or would not look away.

I heard a low, stifled scream escape from Kris's throat that he tried to smother by pressing the side of his face against her mouth. The muscles on his neck looked tight. His hair was flopping into his face. His movements became frantic. And then they froze together for an instant that stretched out timelessly.

He looked up at me as the ecstatic oblivion swept through him. I know my mouth was open. I know I had let the breeze pull my scarf away from my face. I know that a fine dew of sweat beaded on my face as I stared into his eyes. I know I felt my fingers unclench from my knees as he pulled out of her and lowered his eyes back down to hers. He stared at her for several moments and then began to kiss her tenderly.

It was at this moment that I began to feel uncomfortable. I felt suddenly like an intruder. Rob had silently slammed the door in my face, and to make certain that I understood how uninvited I suddenly was, he looked up at me once more and shifted his chin sharply toward the bonfire. His eyes said "Get the fuck out of here, now." He put his left hand against her right ear, and started kissing the left one. I knew he was deafening her to my departure. I took the hint and scrambled down from my perch. I was barely able to mount a retreat due to the fact that my left foot was asleep, and my pulse was throbbing fiercely between my legs.

I couldn't believe what I had just done. It was intrusive and naughty and so NOT me. But I had enjoyed it somehow. I had stayed.

a/n: Reviews are appreciated.


	14. Chapter 14

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Fourteen: Questions and Answers

Rose and Mike were waiting for me by the remnants of the big fire. The unmistakable stink of vomit was floating around the party site, and a few couples were still wrapped around each other in a drunken stupor.

"There you are, Bella!" Mike all but cried on seeing me.

"Yup. Here I am." I was still a little out of breath from watching the live sex show. And I had a bad case of pins and needles in my foot. "Why so glad to see me?"

"I was thinking we should just go ahead and leave. It will be dark soon, and Jazz is clearly not showing up. Most people have left already." He looked at Rose as though wanting her to back up his statement somehow, so she nodded.

"But Jake took my keys," I protested.

Rose looked at me with her head tilted toward her right shoulder. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I left my truck at Mike's store," I explained. "How will I get home? How will you get home?" I was beginning to feel a little panicked. Where had Jake gone with my keys? Why did I hand them over anyway? That was so stupid of me. A part of me had known that he was just asking for my keys to keep me from driving drunk, and of course Jake didn't know that my truck was miles away back on the edge of town.

Mike stood up and grabbed my shoulder in what I assume was meant to be a comforting gesture. He said, "I'll take you and Rose both home. I don't mind. And I wasn't expecting the party to end quite this early anyway, so my folks aren't expecting me for a while." I nodded and managed a little smile for him.

Funny but a few hours ago I wouldn't have been able to smile. I was still giddy from what I had just seen. Been a part of. Rob had included me somehow. I shivered. It was wrong and weird. And he was really hot.

I closed my eyes in Mike's car, unwilling to get another look at the heinous roadside memorial. He stopped in front of my house, and the sight of my driveway sitting there without my truck in it brought me back to practicality. "Mike, do you think you could take me to get my truck tomorrow? If I get my keys back…"

"I have to work tomorrow, Bella. But if you still need me after eight I can do it." He was leaning out of his window to answer me, and the look on his face was hesitant at best.

"Oh." I was disappointed. "I'll figure something out. Thanks so much for the ride." I leaned down to wave at Rose. "Call me when you get home, Rose." She smiled and waved at me with her fingertips. She looked tired. And worried. A pang of guilt struck me then. I had completely forgotten about Jazz in the past hour.

I turned and walked into my house. I wasn't surprised when Charlie's cruiser wasn't parked out front, but now it registered with me that he was probably out looking for Jazz like everyone else. No matter that it was too early to make it a real Missing Persons case; Charlie would be worried. Too many weird things had been going on.

In my room, I stripped off my layers. The tee-shirt at the bottom of my armor against the cold was soaked through with sweat. I hopped into a warm shower to get rid of the grime and cold and smoky smell. I couldn't help but recall the last time I'd been covered in the scent of bonfire. I remembered the way William's nose had wrinkled at me because of the pungent odor. I sighed as I lathered my hair, washing it slowly, taking time to think and luxuriate in the bubbles and steam.

It was too early to climb into bed once my flannel pajamas and fuzzy slippers were in place. I tied my wet hair off my neck and turned on my computer before padding down the stairs in search of something to eat. The campfire food seemed like years ago. I wondered if Charlie would be hungry when he got home. Chances were he would be, so I peered into the fridge. As always, there was plenty of fish on hand, and we had a package of tortillas that I had been planning to use for enchiladas. But I didn't have the energy for that, so I decided that fish taco would be simple but hearty. I chopped a few onions and peppers and grated some cheese while the fillets soaked in a little lime juice. This process was a second nature to me, so I was able to think freely while my hands worked.

I let my mind wander. Shit! The creepy guy at the cemetery! Why hadn't I said anything about him? What if Jazz hadn't got into his car right after me & left. What if he had gone back to tell the creep off or something.

Would Jazz do that?

Who on earth can really predict what a teenage guy would do? They make no sense even on a good day.

Once all the kitchen prep was done, I washed my hands and went upstairs. Cooking would only take a few minutes, and I decided to wait for Charlie. My computer was buzzing rather pathetically, and I wondered how long it would last. I was in the middle of checking my e-mail when I heard thunder crash outside.

I hadn't noticed any lightening, but the thunder was so loud that it had made me jump. I went to the window to check out the sky. I was surprised that it wasn't raining. It was difficult to determine how cloudy it was because it was already so dark outside. The blackness was thick and deep. And that's how I noticed the streak of white that darted across the tree line at the edge of the wood.

Alice.

Impossible.

Another streak, too fast to make out, but definitely a streak. A light, glowy blur.

My heart began to pound so hard that I could feel it moving my ribs. I gasped, unaware that I had held my breath, and suddenly I was hyperventilating, I leaned my palms against the cold glass of the window. Another crash of thunder made me jump back. My knees were crumpling, and I slid to the floor. It had looked so real. A ghost.

Alice's ghost.

The thing was, I didn't believe in ghosts, and I was having a hard time with the instant replay that was going through my mind. It had definitely looked like Alice. Alice running. And then a blur chasing after her. That's what it seemed like to me. I was losing my mind.

I jumped out of my skin again when I heard the front door open. I placed a hand over my chest, willing my heart to take it easy on me. I heard the unmistakable tread of Charlie's heavy boots across the entry way floor. I took a deep breath and descended to the kitchen.

"Hey dad," I greeted him when I entered the kitchen where he was uncapping a beer bottle and peering at the various small plates of raw food I had spread over the counter. Charlie sighed and looked at me. I was too surprised to move when he pulled me into a hug. The smell of beer on his breath made me feel a little sick after the day I'd had, but I just sucked it up and hugged him back.

"Bells, I love you. You know that, right?"

This was unprecedented. Charlie wasn't one to vocalize his feelings. I was taken aback, but I tried to play it cool. "Of course, dad. You know I love you too, right?"

"Yeah honey." He let me go slowly. "Sorry, but things are just so damned weird right now."

I waited for him to elaborate. Asking questions never did any good with Charlie, but this mood of his was new. I thought he might actually open up to me if I managed to feign disinterest.

He sat heavily at the table with his beer while I heated some oil in the cast iron skillet. I watched him out of the corner of his eye as he fumbled with something in a plastic bag that he had withdrawn from his pocket.

Over the sizzle of the food, I heard electronic beeping noises. I surreptitiously watched Charlie pushing buttons n a phone. "Did you get a new phone, dad?" I was surprised because he generally professed to hate technology and chose to rely on his ever-present police radio for quick communication. He knew I could always get hold of him that way if I needed to, so he never carried a phone.

He didn't answer me, intent on pushing the buttons. "Hmm. Bells, can I use your computer?"

I was surprised. If there was anything Charlie stayed away from more than cell phones, it was computers. "Uhh, sure. I warmed it up. My e-mail is open. Could you just close it before you open a browser?"

"What's a browser?'

"Dad, the tacos are ready. If you want, we can eat and then I'll help you with the computer." I didn't want the food to scorch or get cold waiting for my dad to take a leap into the 21st century. The mention of food was all it took to draw Charlie's attention away from his toy. I gasped when I set his plate on the table next to the flat black phone. "Is that Jazz's phone!?" The screen had a photo up on it. The photo he had taken this morning at Alice's grave.

Charlie grabbed the phone and shoved it into his pocket without answering me. It was too late for him to cover up the truth, so he just ignored it instead. "Bells, this smells great," he enthused as he picked up a fork.

I sighed, reminding myself that he is not easily budged. After the meal, I'd get to learn more, if only because of his technological ineptitude. I'd at least learn about the epitaph that Jazz had intended to look up. I shuddered. If Charlie had Jazz's phone, then all signs pointed to bad news. I couldn't think about it. I also couldn't taste the spicy food that I chewed and swallowed mechanically. I willed myself to get through this meal, to get through this day. Between the cemetery, the creepy guy, the stress over Jazz not showing for the party, the beer, the sex, the ghosts, and now the phone, I was on the verge of disintegrating. I had to make it through the meal and then I had to help Charlie. I'd have to keep it together in order to get answers.

"Who put this monument up?" I asked casually as I typed "_Eadem mutata resurgo_" into the search box.

"Dr. Cullen, I believe." I had suspected as much.

Eadem mutata resurgo: "Though changed I shall arise the same"

"Well that's not much help," Charlie mused.

I looked at him, His eyes looked tired. He looked older than I had ever noticed before. "What were you expecting, dad?"

He sighed. "I don't know. He took this picture for a reason, right? I guess I was just hoping for SOMETHING."

"He did take the picture for a reason. He wanted to do what we just did. He wanted to look the phrase up & see what it means."

"We can't know that was his intention, Bells. I know it's tempting to try to attribute a reason to the clues we find in an investigation, but that's also the quickest way to mislead yourself."

"No," I interrupted. "I mean that this was exactly his intention, dad. We don't carry a little notepad around everywhere like you do, so this was his way of making sure he didn't forget the epitaph."

"Bella? Were you at the cemetery with Jasper Whitlock?" His face had gone white.

"Oh," I started fumbling. He was already reacting badly, and I didn't want to give him anything more to be upset over. But I knew he needed all the facts, so I told him. I told him about the old man with the yellow flowers and my impetuous decision to stop at the cemetery. I told him about the creepy guy and about Jazz startling me. I told him everything I could remember about our conversation, right up to Jazz walking me to my truck."

He listened silently. At some point during my recount of the events, his little notepad appeared in his hands, and he was jotting down highlights from my story. When I was done, he asked me to recall all the details I could about the creepy guy. When I mentioned the sniffing of the headstone, Charlie froze and stared at me. "He did what?"

"He sn-sniffed it?"

"What makes you think he was sniffing it?"

"Because that's what he was doing. He was leaning in and clearly inhaling with his eyes half closed." I shuddered at the recollection.

We were silent for several moments as Charlie flipped back through the pages of his small book. He stood and walked heavily down the stairs, deep in thought. I nearly crashed into him when he reached the ground floor and abruptly turned toward me. "Bells, what was Jasper's relationship to Alice Brandon?"

My face turned red. I hmmmmed and bit my lip. This was a toughie. "Well, she was crazy about him, but he never knew until I recently told him." I figured the truth was best.

"How did he react to that news?"

"Well, this morning he- he was really missing her. Regretting lost possibilities."

"I see." I didn't see at all, but he started walking toward the kitchen again, so I followed. He took the phone and dialed while I looked on mutely. "Hey Mark. Is that detective still hanging around the station?" Charlie's all-business voice was gruff, commanding respect. "I've got some new info that might link the Whitlock kid's disappearance to the break-in-" Charlie was cut off mid sentence as he listened intently. He shot me a wary glance, but I didn't look away. I still needed my answers. "FBI?" Charlie's face changed as he said those three letters in the form of a question. "Shit. Well, I don't really want to leave my daughter here alone right now, so I guess so." I was straining to hear the other end of this conversation, though my efforts were futile. Charlie hardly ever cursed, so if the letters F.B.I. hadn't clued me in to something big, his use of the word shit would have done it.

He hung up the phone with nothing more than a grunt and stared silently at the table. I was still walking the tightrope of his taciturnity. I didn't want to throw questions at him for fear he'd just shut me out. I was so nervous by this time, though, that I couldn't sit still. I rose and turned the water on to start the dishes.

Charlie stayed quietly seated at the empty table. Occasionally I'd hear his pen scrawl in his little notepad. I had just scrubbed the last of the sticky fish out of the iron skillet when a knock at the door caused us both to start. Charlie rose to answer it, and I followed him, Wiping my wet hands on one of the striped red kitchen towels.

Deputy Mark walked in with a man in a blue trousers and a grey jacket. Charlie shook the man's hand and nodded a greeting at Mark. The man whom I assumed was the county's investigator peered over Charlie's shoulder at me. Charlie turned, "Bells, why don't you go on and work on your homework."

"No, dad. These are my friends you're talking about, and I deserve to know." I had never spoken so boldly to my father in front of strangers before. And these strangers were his colleagues. I cringed waiting for Charlie's wrath at my disrespect.

"D'you mind?" Charlie asked the stranger, much to my surprise. The man shrugged and lowered himself heavily onto the sofa. Charlie followed suit while Mark settled in the easy chair and I leaned against the wall, twisting the damp dishtowel in my hands and trying to remain unobtrusive so they would be encouraged to speak freely.

"So," the investigator began, "we haven't turned up any prints at all in the investigation."

Charlie made a face of surprise, "None?"

"None other than those belonging to the Alice Brandon, your daughter, "he nodded toward me, "and Rosalie Hale. No unidentified prints at all. Which is weird because we don't have prints on file for the scientist, so he should have come up a million times on the unidentified list. Also, our team didn't turn up any visitors. No unidentified partials. Nothing. But intel shows that Dr. Cullen was there a few days before the house was abandoned. He should have come up somewhere. And whoever broke in- well latex gloves, maybe."

Charlie sighed. "Dead end."

"Well, we casted a couple of stray shoe prints outside."

"Any luck with those yet?"

"Male and female. The male could be one of our team. The ground was wet, and we weren't too careful at first. But the female has got to be something."

Charlie looked eager as he replied, "That would explain the clothes. You know, this could be a husband and wife team. He broke in and did the damage while she was rifling through the closet."

"Conjecture."

"Yeah." Charlie's eyes fell for a moment. I was reminded of how her had just cautioned me about jumping to conclusions. "How long before you get something on the cast?"

"Tomorrow morning for sure." the investigator coughed and looked over at me before turning back to Charlie. "What made you think this might be linked to your disappearance?"

"Oh," Charlie pulled the notepad out of his breast pocket again. "Well, Whitlock had a connection to the Brandon girl. The last place he was seen was outside the cemetery after visiting Brandon's grave this morning."

The detective's face crinkled as he frowned in thought. "Hmmm. Well we'll check that male print against his shoes then. If he's stalking around the dead girl, he could well be the one who broke in."

"He wasn't stalking around!" I was disgruntled at this man's attitude. "He was visiting her. He loves her."

No one spoke.

"Bella honey, why don't you-"

"No! Listen. This might be linked up, but it doesn't make sense. If it is linked up, it certainly isn't Jazz's fault. You've got to pull back a little."

Charlie just looked at me. Mark and Mr. CSI were looking at me too. I suddenly felt my face go red in self-conscious embarrassment. Who was I to try to tell these men how to do their jobs. I was stunned when Charlie encouraged me to keep speaking, "Go on, Bells. What's on your mind?"

I just gaped at him for a moment before stuttering an answer, "Well, well you know the wreck? Where were they going? What about the driver of the other car who went over the cliff?"

The detective stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets. I wondered if this was a gesture of frustration, boredom, or deep thought. "You think this goes all the way back to that?"

"Well, I stuttered again, "Um, I just don't understand it. That day was really normal until William showed up at the hospital and dragged Alice away. I thought they were going home, but then I found out today that there's that awful memorial up in the Cliffside highway, and there was a car that went over the edge, but no one has ever said anything about another victim from the accident, and then there was that creepy guy-" I stopped.

Oh.

"Oh!"

Everyone was staring at me, and I leaned forward away from the wall. My face must have showed how stunned I was at the memory that had just flashed through my mind. "Oh!" I said again, and Charlie said my name.

"Dad, the creepy guy. He was there."

"What are you talking about, Bells?"

"The guy. The one I told you about who sniffed the tombstone. He was at the hospital just before William showed up. I've never seen him around town. He was dressed kind of flash. I don't think he's from here, but it has to be a connection."

My father took my hand and pulled me to the sofa. I let him guide me automatically, my brain still reeling at this new revelation. I sat and let the detective guide me through a recount of that day in the hospital while Charlie took notes. It was hard to put everything into words, but I struggled with the memory, trying to turn the faded images in my head into a picture that they could see. I then allowed myself to voice all the questions that had been rolling about in my head. Who had William been talking about? Well, surely it was Creepy Guy. Why had he freaked? Clearly Creepy Guy was dangerous. Where had he been running to with Alice?

I still didn't have an answer for that one.

"No body was ever recovered, but I just don't see how that's a possibility," the detective and Charlie were speaking low while I was lost in a daze of my thoughts.

No body. The Maserati was exhumed from the sea a week after the accident that sent it plunging over the cliff. But no body was ever recovered. The driver was lost. And had never been identified.

Creepy Guy could never have survived the fall, or if he did, he couldn't be walking around the cemetery a month later without a scratch on him.

The men sat talking for a while. I have no idea how much time passed. I was too tired and lost in my own thoughts to listen with any hope of following their train of supposition and conjecture. They dismissed the idea that Creepy Guy was the driver that killed William and Alice. I, on the other hand, was completely convinced of it, no matter how unlikely it seemed.

It was late by the time I went to bed, and a deep sleep dragged me away into nightmares where I was chased by the strangely good-looking blond man in the red leather jacket.

a/n: More soon. I promise. If you're thinking about this story, please comment! Thanks.


	15. Chapter 15

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Fifteen: Missing Persons

I awoke quite late on Sunday. I wasn't surprised that Charlie was already up and out of the house. I needed to go to the supermarket to get supplies for Thanksgiving, which was now just four days away, but my truck was still across town at the Newton's sporting goods store. I tried calling Rose to see if she could borrow her mom's Prius again and go shopping with me, but there was no answer. I sighed and got ready for the day. I'd have to call Jake and get him to pick me up or bring my truck to me or something. After brushing my teeth and pulling my hair back into a ponytail, I dragged myself sluggishly down the stairs to make some coffee and toast.

While crunching, I flipped through the little spiral notebook that hung on the wall by the telephone. Charlie had a million phone numbers handy. As chief of police, he needed to be able to get hold of the mayor, the school superintendent, the chamber of commerce, the doctors, the coroner, and any number of other important community figures at any time. So he kept them all in this notebook; their home, office, and mobile numbers are printed legibly in his dark block characters. I flipped toward the front of the notebook where he had friends and family. There was my name written with the phone number to the house in Phoenix. There was my mother's new Florida number. There was Billy Black.

I dialed the number and waited. And waited. No answer. I left a message, reminding Jake that he still had my keys. I sighed.

I flipped absentmindedly through the notebook, weighing up the possibility of walking to the supermarket. The problem was that I had a pretty hefty shopping list, and I couldn't possibly carry the load of food all the way home.

I stopped at Dr. Cullen's name. Home, Office, Mobile. All of his numbers were there. I thought of calling Edward for a ride.

No. It would be an imposition. He surely had better things to do with his Sunday than chauffeur me to the supermarket.

I could just call to chat.

About what?

Biology homework?

That picture he had drawn of me?

He did still owe me an explanation on that.

I bit my lip, arguing with myself over the pros and cons of calling Edward.

I picked up the phone and punched the numbers in slowly. On the last digit, I hesitated. I changed my mind a hundred times before my thumb betrayed me and just pressed down, taking the choice away. I held my breath when I realized what I had done. The phone range one and a half times before a beautiful female voice answered.

"Uhh, hi. Um, This is Bella. I'm um in Edward's class, and.." I trailed off. And I am obsessed with him would have been the most accurate ending to the thought. As soon as my mind went there, though, I had to shut up.

"Just a moment, Bella, I'll call him for you." I heard the honey-sweet voice call Edward's name, and a moment later he said my name, the syllables sliding over his lips like dew dripping from a flower petal.

"Bella?" he said a second time when I didn't answer, too caught up in my Edward lip fantasy to speak.

"Oh." I said.

"Hi?"

"Edward."

"Yes?"

"Hi."

He laughed. "Hello Bella." He paused again, expectantly, waiting for me to get to my point. He gave up on waiting, "Are you busy today, Bella?"

"Huh?"

He chuckled again, a little more mirthfully than the first time. "Bella, are you drunk or something?"

Oh. Drunk. That reminded me. "I don't have my truck." I knew I was leaving out something important, but I was really only capable of extremely basic conversation.

"Do you need a ride somewhere?" He was offering! He was offering me a ride. That was what I had called about, right?'

"Oh, um. If you're not busy, um would you mind?"

"I'd love to, actually. Where do you need to go?"

"Ah. Um. Oh. The store. I just have to get some things at the Supermarket for Thanksgiving, and I can't do it as a pedestrian." Four syllables! I had managed a four-syllable word!

"Is now alright?"

"Yeah. Sure. I'm here. At home I mean. I'm at home."

I heard Edward's soft laughter again. "Okay, Bella. You stay there. I'll pick you up."

I ran up the stairs, my heart racing. What had I just done? My brain had turned to mush, and I had imposed myself on Edward. Holy crap. I ripped out my ponytail and tried to do something better with my hair. It didn't work. After a few unsuccessful minutes with the brush, I pulled the ponytail back up and dug through my desk for the shopping list.

Jazz's phone was still sitting on my desk.

I picked it up and headed down the stairs just in time to hear a knock on the door.

I held my breath as I approached the door. I opened it slowly to reveal Edward standing with his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched, in much the same attitude as I had first seen him at the cemetery. His long lashes shaded his eyes from the overcast midday gloom. His hair was elegantly windswept. I pulled my jacket of the peg by the door when the cold breeze whipped at me in the doorway. Edward's lips curved slightly at me, and my breath caught. His light amber eyes pierced through me. His scent draped itself over me. I felt my body shudder.

"You should put that coat on," He pointed to the jacket clutched in my fist, and I snapped out of my reverie to shove my arms into the sleeves and pull the door closed. I dropped my shopping list and Jazz's phone in the process. Edward bent to pick them up, which was a mercy to me because I honestly would have fallen over. He handed the list to me and glanced at the phone for a moment. Did he really just hold it up to his nose? The movement was too quick for me to be sure, but I could almost swear he had just sniffed Jazz's phone before placing in my palm.

He ushered me toward his Volvo and opened the passenger door for me. He was standing so close that I stalled out, unable to pick my foot up or bend at the waist to get in. He smiled and I felt my heart throb and by face grow hot. How did he do that to me? "Bella?"

"Oh." I turned and climbed into his car as he smiled. He closed the door gently and then appeared at the driver side door, elegantly folding his lanky fame into the seat.

"So, what happened to your truck?"

"Oh. Um, my friend Jake took my keys yesterday."

"Why?"

"Well," I felt my face turn red again, "I had a bit of beer, and he didn't want me driving."

Silence.

I looked over at Edward to see the most beautiful scowl I had ever seen in my life.

"I guess you don't approve," I ventured.

He stole a glance at me as we pulled into the supermarket lot. How had we got there so quickly? "I don't like to think of you doing reckless things, Bella."

Hunh.

"I wasn't driving, though. I mean to the party. I rode with friends, so it was just unlucky that Jake tricked me out of my keys. I couldn't have done anything reckless."

"Drinking was reckless, Bella."

I snorted. "Everyone was drinking. People drink all the time. And I was just-" I cut myself off, realizing that I was babbling and probably boring Edward.

"You were just what?" I looked up to see his eyes burning into mine. His face was still. Concerned. He took my breath away.

"I was just," I breathed. I honestly couldn't remember.

"Come on, Bella. Let's buy food." He smiled at me, giving up on the beautiful stare-down, and he unfolded himself from the car as gracefully as he had entered it.

Inside the supermarket, he pushed the chariot while I grabbed things from the shelves and crossed them off of my list. I managed to carry on an almost normal conversation with him during this process, explaining that I was cooking a few dishes and a pie to take over to Billy Black's house on Thursday. I asked him about his plans for Thanksgiving, and he said it would be a quiet family day at the house. He said that this would be the first time without William and Alice.

"Oh." It had never occurred to me how important she was to both of us.

"Sorry. I know that you and she were planning Thanksgiving together this year." His voice was warm and soft and comforting like angora.

I sighed and led him toward the check-out line. I had been thinking about her so much the past few days, in different ways than I had before. Thinking was a weight, but every time I had a thought that actually made sense, the weight got lighter and lighter.

"Edward?" I asked when we reached his car. "You knew William better than me.." Did Edward's back just get straighter?

"Yes," he answered cautiously.

"Do you have any idea why that Creepy Guy would have freaked him out? Or any idea where he was going with Alice?"

"What creepy guy, Bella?"

"Oh. Yeah. I saw this guy at the hospital right before William came to get Alice, and then I saw him again yesterday at the cemetery."

Edward definitely stiffened. His eyes seemed to grow two shades darker as he stared at me. His jaw was clenched. But when he spoke, his voice was as easy and liquid as ever, "You've seen this guy twice, Bella?"

God, if he kept saying my name, I was going to hyperventilate. It was tough to keep from reacting when he said it, but I knew I needed to concentrate on his words.

"Yes."

"Can you describe him to me?"

"Um, yeah…" and I launched into the description I had given the detective and my father the night before.

Edward exhaled slowly. The scent of his breath filled the car, and I inhaled as deeply as I could. It was so sweet and heavy and delicious that I felt tipsy all over again. I felt myself leaning toward him.

I wanted him to kiss me so badly that my lips ached for his touch.

He started the car and slid it deftly from its parking space. We were back in my driveway before I had completely collected myself from my lip fantasy.

"You drive really fast," I mumbled. My heart stopped when he glanced at me and pulled half of his mouth into a grin before sliding out of the car.

Edward insisted on carrying all the bags for me. I was surprised when he didn't hesitate inside the doorway before striding directly to the kitchen. It was as though he had been here a million times.

I motioned for him to sit at the table while I unloaded the bags. I offered him a glass of juice or water, which he politely refused. It was unnerving having him in the room with me, watching me fumble with the various boxes and jars and bunches of veggies. Every time I glanced up, he was staring at me, completely unabashed. Finally my nerves forced me to break the silence.

"So, can you tell me about that artwork of yours?"

There was an infinitesimal pause before he spoke, "I doodle during class. The lectures tend to be dull."

"You drew me. In my room. In great detail."

"You're just projecting, I think. It was you because you're always sitting right there. I enjoy watching the way your eyelashes leave tiny shadows on your cheek."

I blushed the deepest hottest red in my repertoire. I had no response for that. If he was trying to get me to drop the subject by flummoxing me with unnerving compliments, he had succeeded.

"Do you want me to take you to pick up your truck?" He offered.

"No keys," I reminded him.

"I doubt the wiring on that thing is very complicated, Bella. I had an old Ford a long time ago, and I could spark the engine with a knife blade if I had to."

"That sounds dangerous. And also a bit criminal." He chuckled. My heart tried to jump out of my chest and attack him.

At that moment, the phone rang, and I pulled my eyes away from Edward to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hey Bells, sorry about the keys."

"Oh! Hey Jake, is there any way you could bring them by for me?"

"Well, I kind of need to stick close to home today, but I can get a ride to your truck and put them under the mat for your or something.

"Oh." I thought for a moment. I looked at Edward, "Maybe my friend Edward could give me a ride to my truck?" I said it as a question to Edward, and he nodded once in reply.

"Yeah sorry about that. Wait. What? Edward? Who's Edward?"

"You know, Dr. Cullen's.. erm, brother or something." Edward was watching me with his head cocked slightly to one side as though he were listening to Jake's end of the conversation.

"Those fucking Cullens!" he spat. "They're all liars, Bella. I can't believe you're even talking about them like they're friends."

"What? Jake, what the hell are you talking about?"

I stared at him. Cullens. I suddenly remembered my anger at Dr. Cullen for letting Alice die. Edward was sitting completely still. If he could hear Jake's yelling, he wasn't giving anything away.

Jacob was ranting. "Stay away from them, Bells. Seriously."

"What do you mean exactly? Jake, what do you have against them, specifically?" Edward raised an eyebrow.

"Specifically, Bells? I told you. They lie. They break their promises. The DOCTOR, his WIFE, your FRIEND Edward." His voice was full of angry conviction.

"What do you mean?" I put all the stubborn assurance I could muster into my voice because my heart was battling against itself. On the one hand, Edward sat right in front of me, as beautiful as a god. He had given up part of his Sunday to drive me around, and yet…Yet I still couldn't let go of the feeling that shook my conviction. Because on the other hand, I was still completely assured that Dr. Cullen HAD let Alice die. And Edward- he had indeed lied to me about that drawing.

I could practically hear Jacob's face twisting in angry frustration. "Damn it! Damn it, Bells. They made a promise." He hissed that word out between his clenched teeth like it tasted sour. "And then last month-" he broke off.

"What? Spit it out, Jake."

"Bells," he sighed. "Just don't trust them, okay? For me? Be careful. Edward ISN'T your friend."

With that he hung up. I wondered if he was going to leave my keys in my truck as he had suggested.

I put the phone down slowly.

"Interesting conversation?" Edward's voice was as velvety as ever. He betrayed no sign of shock or anger at what he had just heard.

"Did you do something to Jacob Black?"

Edward's perfect forehead creased very slightly, "To Jacob? No. Not that I'm aware of anyway."

"What about Dr. Cullen?"

Edward scoffed. The burst of air that exploded from his lips bathed me again in the aroma that melted my spine and made my skin tingle. "Carlisle has never done any harm to anyone." Edward's voice was harder now. I was reminded of the strong tenor of Dr. Cullen's voice that day that I overheard him on his phone in the hospital.

"Where were you on the day Alice died?"

"What?"

I didn't know how to answer him. Didn't know why I had asked that. It had come out of nowhere and surprised me as much as it apparently surprised him. His eyebrows were raised at me. God, was it really possible for anyone to be that attractive no matter what look he had on his face?

"I heard Dr. Cullen talking about you that day. I got the impression you were out of town, but it was right after you started school." Even though I had never given this much thought, my words made perfect sense to me.

"Bella, I'll drive by your truck and see if the keys are there. If so, I'll drop it off here for you later." He rose elegantly as he changed the subject and dodged my question. I must have hit on something if his reaction were anything to go by. I filed this away in my head to dwell on later.

"Take me with you. How will you get the truck back here on your own?" I argued. I didn't want him to go. No matter how fishy he was acting, I still craved his presence.

"If Jacob doesn't leave the key, then I'd just have to bring you back here again. If the key is there, I can get Esme to help with the logistics." He was at the door by then. His hand was on the knob. My heart was aching. I didn't want to let him go.

Maybe he sensed my sudden panic. Maybe he could hear my heart pounding with dread. Whatever the reason, he reached a hand out and stroked his thumb across my cheek. I closed my eyes to his touch and when I opened them, he was gone, his Volvo backing out of the drive.

At some point between a long conversation with Rose in which she told me that she had a date with Quil and finishing my homework, my truck appeared in the driveway. I walked out to it and opened the door to find a slightly bulgy envelope sitting on the seat. I opened it. My key was there along with a single sheet of paper.

_**Bella,**_

_**I enjoyed spending the day with you. Please don't do anything reckless. You know that things in Forks are taking unusual turns right now. I wouldn't want any of that to fall on you.**_

_**Edward**_

I read it over several times before I shivered. The breeze had picked up and I hadn't put on my jacket to walk out to the car. I slammed the heavy, rusted door of my truck shut again and walked back into the warm kitchen with my eyes still glued to the letter.

He enjoyed spending the day with me. My insides bubbled like a lava lamp.

By the end of day Monday, Jazz was a full-fledged missing persons case.

I was tense and jumpy, except when Edward was around. He had a way of making me feel safe, even though I was conflicted about it. I still wasn't sure to make of Jake's rant.

On Tuesday, I tensed up in the hallway because Rob's eyes met mine and I saw him coming at me. I had been avoiding him after seeing his penis. I blushed when I felt his eyes on me. I braced myself for whatever it was he was going to say. I imagined that he was approaching me to testify that he was God's gift to women, and to condescendingly offer to give me a closer look at what I had seen. I leaned against my locker as he arrived at my side and bent toward my ear. In a moment of madness, I was excited by his warm breath against my cheek, "Please don't EVER let Kris hear about what happened."

I watched in stunned silence as he walked away. I had fully expected him to be a chauvinistic prick. Instead, he was actually doing a good impression of a guy who is sincerely into his girlfriend and would not want her to find out about the sex show they'd given me. There was no snarky comment about a threesome. There was no smirk. There was no offer for hot sex. I sighed and watched him walk away.

That was the last time I saw him.

Rob and Kris became the next to join the list of missing persons.

a/n: Woot! If you're reading, let me know. And thank you.


	16. Chapter 16

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Sixteen: Footprints

When school let out early on Wednesday for the Thanksgiving break, the usual exuberance was nowhere to be found. The buzz of excitement that was normally expected before a holiday was replaced by murmurs of disquiet. Students filed out of the school slowly. The sense that bad things were happening in the small town of Forks was strong and palpable.

All week long, I had been having the feeling that Edward was following me when I crossed campus or when I walked to and from my car. He always seemed to be pulling into a parking space right next to me in the mornings and walking to his car at the same time as me in the afternoons, even when I dragged my feet on Wednesday just to see if he'd be right there like he had been on the previous two days.

He was.

But he hadn't said much to me since our strange conversation in the kitchen on Sunday. To be honest, I wasn't sure what to say to start him talking, and I was too nervous around him to just talk naturally.

On Thursday morning I got up at the usual time and started my pie and my casserole. Charlie slept in about an hour later than usual, but he had his uniform on when he joined me in the kitchen. He told me he had to check in at the station, which I was expecting anyway. He said he'd meet me at Billy's at one o'clock.

After he finished his bacon and eggs, I stopped him from going out the door. "Be careful, dad." He looked at me for a long moment before pulling me into a hug. The strange terror that gripped the town had everyone on edge, moody, and emotional.

It felt strange to be away from school. To be away from the usual faces that I saw everyday. I called Rose while I was cooking, and she gave me the gossip on her Wednesday night date with Quil.

"He's really hot, Bella. And he's so, you know, BIG."

"Rose!"

"No, come on, Bella. Get your head out of the gutter. I mean he's kind of a giant, isn't he?"

I thought about Jake hugging me. "Yeah. Kind of swallows you up, right?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "But he's also really sweet. He seems to like me a lot."

"Rose, are you sure you're not just kind of using him to feel better because of Emmett blowing you off on Saturday?"

She paused for a moment as though she were seriously considering my question. I was stirring my sizzling ingredients haphazardly, occasionally flinging a stray onion onto the stove top. "Well. I admit that's why I agreed to go out with him at first, but I think I want this to be something more special."

"More special? What do you mean?" Rose didn't normally talk sentiment when she was obsessing over a new make-out buddy.

"Bella, don't judge me, but I think I want him to be the one."

"The one what?"

She sighed, "I think I want to have sex with him."

"What!? Rose!"

"What? I'm seventeen. This is when it happens."

"But," but what? What was my argument? "But Emmett." Lame, but to the point.

Silence.

"Rose?"

"I kind of think…" She trailed off.

"Kind of think what?" I encouraged.

"I kind of think Emmett likes me too much to have sex with me if I'm a virgin, so I want to change that status so I have a shot with him." She said it all really quickly like ripping off a bandaid.

I didn't know what to say.

"Bella? Do you think I'm horrible?"

I sighed. I had stopped stirring and turned off the stove so that my aromatics wouldn't scorch. "Well, no. Not horrible, but if Quil likes you as much as I think he likes you then this plan of yours kind of sucks for him."

"But this is what guys want." Rose wasn't seeing my point.

"The thing is, if he likes you a lot and you have sex with him, chances are he'll want to do it again, but you'll be wanting to do it with Emmett, and things will be weird."

"Oh." Now she saw my point.

I turned the stove back on and added celery.

"Rose?"

"Yeah?"

"Just don't do anything hasty. You know? Be sure about this if you do it."

"Thanks, Jelly Belly. What time will you be home?"

"I don't know. What time is the football over?"

"No idea. Call me later?"

"You bet."

I finished the stuffing, the casserole, and the pie and packed them into a moving box that had been folded up beside the washing machine so they couldn't fly around in the cab of my truck.

I decided that I had just enough time for a shower before heading to Billy's. I didn't want to stink like onions and baked goods and kitchen sweat all day if I could help it.

Once I was in my bedroom dressing, I chanced a glance out my window to see if I could get away with a sweater & hoodie combination rather than taking my heavy jacket.

That's when I could swear I saw Edward's face looking up at me.

It was one of those weird moments where you blink and then the thing you thought you saw is gone. I peered into the trees and opened my window to get a better look. There was no sign of him, but then a small gust of wind brought proof.

His scent slid down my throat, warming me as it went, like hot cocoa on Christmas morning. The warmth settled in the pit of my stomach and my knees suddenly felt a little shaky.

"Edward?" I murmured very low. Wherever he was, he wouldn't be able to hear me, but I wanted so badly just then to see him, to hear him. I breathed again. I could drink that scent all day and never tire of it, never stop being affected by it.

After several minutes, I gave up and pulled my hoodie over my head. I closed my window against the damp cold, hoping Edward would be alright out there. I had a brief flash of him in the hospital sick and weak like I had been, and my heart hurt.

Thanksgiving dinner was a subdued affair. Several people crowded all over Billy's house, including the Clearwaters and Jake's two older sisters. Jake and I ended up eating side by side on the floor of the living room. It was nice to be around him, as always, but he seemed a little different that day. He was quieter, slightly subdued, worried. He, too, was not immune to the negativity that had invaded the town. It made me sad to think of Jake as less-than-cheerful.

Friday dawned so grey it was nearly black. Storm clouds would definitely break. Rose came over to watch movies, our plan to hit Port Angeles abandoned due to general bad vibes and the impending certainty of inclemency.

All week long, sleep had eluded me more and more each night. So far in addition to Jazz, Rob and Kris, three other people were reported missing in Forks. It was unprecedented and terrifying. Everyone was jumpy.

And on Friday afternoon, everything got worse.

At around four in the afternoon, Charlie burst though the front door. "Isabella, you need to keep this door locked!"

I was stunned. He never yelled at me. Rose's eyes were as wide as mine as we watched him storm through the house checking every window and the back door.

"What's going on, dad? You're scaring me."

"Well you should be scared." He was in the kitchen then, stomping around with a loaf of bread in his hand.

"What are you doing?" I asked as he stared into the refrigerator. Rose was standing meekly behind me, our movie forgotten in the stress.

Charlie turned and looked at us.

"Girls, sit down." He pointed at the kitchen table, but we both hesitated. He was acting strangely, and it was off-putting. "Come on, sit. I need to talk to you."

We both hesitantly seated ourselves.

"Bella, Rose, a couple of your missing classmates have been found."

Rose sighed in relief as soon as he made this statement, but I could feel a hesitancy in his words. "Found? Dad?"

He looked down at the table and swallowed. I felt Rose instantly stiffen. Oh God. "Their bodies were found in the woods near the school." He said it very quietly, but we were both holding our breaths as he spoke, so nothing buffered those words from our ears.

"Bodies?" Rose breathed. "Jazz?"

"No. No clues yet on _his_ case." Charlie was still not making eye-contact with us. I could feel guilt flowing off of him in waves. He had spent his entire adult life serving and protecting this community, and now he was feeling like he had let everyone down.

"Rob and Kris." I stated. It had to be them. They'd probably gone into the woods to make out. Or have sex. I wondered what state of undress the bodies were in when discovered. I felt numb.

Charlie nodded his head. I felt hot tears slide down my face, and I heard a choked sob from Rose.

I sniffed, tears and snot running freely down my face, and I got up swiftly, lunging at the paper towels. I ripped about five of them off in one pull and then slammed the extras onto the table as I rubbed at my face with one of them. The paper was rough and coarse. I heard my rasping voice as I cried into the paper towel, sitting there at the kitchen table with my dad and my best friend.

Charlie let us cry until we quieted down naturally. Normally, he'd have been out of the room at the first sign of a tear, but this time he stuck close, just sitting there.

When we were quiet and the table was littered with the soggy remnants of paper towels, he finally spoke again. "Girls. There's a murderer at large. The victims are your age. And one of the missing persons is your age. I don't want you taking any chances until we catch him. No going out of doors alone. At all. Period. No walking out of any door without your phone in your hand, ready to dial. No more beach. No woods. No cheer practice on the football field. Nothing that will even remotely put you in a position where you could end up victims of this guy. Do you understand?"

We both nodded mutely.

"Rose, do you have a boyfriend?" Normally it would have been beyong odd for Charlie to enquire in to anyone's love life, but in this case, neither of us could even be taken aback. She shrugged.

"Well, if you can get him to walk you to your classes and drive you home from school, I think it would be a good idea." Charlie was now the concerned parent more than the chief of police.

She nodded. I think both of us were beyond coherent speech.

Or maybe not. My voice found my lips before I had a chance to think about what I was saying, "Dad? Did those footprints at Alice's house turn anything up?"

His eyebrows went up. Was he surprised at the connections I was implying? I was still sure that everything was likely tied together somehow.

"Yeah. Umm," he scratched his head, "the female print belonged to Alice. We've found more of the male print around the house but haven't ID'd it yet. It doesn't belong to Jazz, and it doesn't match any of the men's shoes in the house."

"Oh." What had I been hoping for? "Hey, did you check the cemetery for prints from Creepy Guy?"

"Yeah, we did actually. The paths are all gravel, so that wasn't much help, but we got a partial from the flower bed at Alice's monument. No match."

"That's good, though, right? That means it's not Jazz's so it must belong to the Creepy Guy." While I spoke, Rose was dabbing at her eyes. She was wan and tired looking. I was sure I looked much worse, considering I wasn't blessed with her natural beauty.

"Probably so, Bells."

"That's great!" I enthused. "It's something, right? A break?"

"Hopefully it is, kiddo, but so far it isn't much."

"Well, if there are footprints where the bodies were found…" I trailed off, the horror of my words slapping me in the face.

"The scene is a mess, but we're casting around." And then he stood up, effectively terminating the topic of conversation.

"Rose, maybe you should just stay over here tonight?" I asked her. Charlie nodded his acquiescence to this plan, and Rose sniffed.

a/n: Thanks to everyone who is reviewing and encouraging me.


	17. Chapter 17

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Seventeen: First Kiss

The next day, Rose's mother came to pick her up around noon. We hadn't slept much. The local news was a nightmare of gruesome stories. The bodies, whose identities had not been released to the public, were reported to have been partially crushed and exsanguinated.

There was no way to avoid nightmares.

Saturday night was rough. When I was going to bed, I thought I saw the ghost again outside my window for a split second. I was so exhausted and my nerves were so frayed that I didn't even think about it this time.

But when the wind picked up in the middle of the night and howled at me, I awoke and glanced out my window.

Edward was there. I knew he was, even though I couldn't see him. I opened the window a crack, and a familiar warmth swept over me comfortingly.

I needed more of that. I needed to swim in it.

I was beyond caring that it made no sense for him to be lurking. I was beyond wondering if he might be the danger that had the whole town frightened, broken, and scattered. I was beyond contemplating why I was so sure he was there. None of that occurred to me at the time. All I had was the certainty that he was there and the belief that he could somehow make me feel better. Safer.

I pulled on a pair of thick socks and I padded down the stairs with my boots in my hand. I slipped into my jacket and boots in the kitchen and slid out of the back door as silently as I could manage.

The gusty wind was blowing the clouds around, revealing occasional glimpses of the full moon above me. I walked between the shadows and the silver light into the tree line where I had spotted the ghosts.

"Bella, what the hell are you doing wandering into the woods in the middle of the night?"

I was taken aback by the sudden glorious appearance of Edward. His voice was a harsh whisper, and his eyes were narrowed. His beautiful face was a mask of rage. His shoulders were tense, head down, fists tight. He was so beautiful I could barely breathe.

I stood staring at him without thinking. I drank him in; I memorized every detail of his pallid furious face: his tangled mess of hair that glinted like filaments of copper wire in the moonlight, his glowing gold eyes that sparked with fierce and deadly anger, his curled inviting lips that beckoned me closer.

"Bella?" He sighed.

"Hmmm?"

I was transfixed as he took a step toward me. Every inch of distance that diminished between us brought him into sharper focus, and my breathing became more labored. Every breath I managed to inhale filled my lungs with his glorious scent, and I felt the blood in my veins slow to a crawl. I imagined kissing him. I imagined that having him that close would make my heart stop altogether. I wondered if he could taste as good as he smelled.

"Bella, what are you doing out here?" His eyes were only two feet from mine. His hand reached toward my arm. My body reacted instinctively. I made no decision to do what I did. If I had been able to think at all, I'd have certainly analyzed my way out of touching him. But I was beyond thought and beyond reason. The most magnetic being in the world stood before me, and I did what any attracted body would do.

I mirrored his movement, reaching my hand out toward his. I touched his fingers, and he stopped moving. It was almost as though the feel of my skin had captivated him, stunned him, frozen him in place. My fingers dragged up his arm; his sweater was soft, but I didn't register the color. I couldn't see anything but his face, couldn't smell anything but his body, but I could feel everything. I could feel as though my fingertips were suddenly turbo-charged and electrified. Touching Edward's arm, slowly dragging my fingers up toward his shoulder, was the most powerful experience I had ever felt in my life.

As I traced my fingertips over his forearm, around his biceps, up his triceps, across his shoulder; as I closed the distance between us with a tiny step; as my throat was flooded with the taste of his scent hanging in the air around him, my hearing shut down. I couldn't hear either of us breathe. My whole head throbbed with the sloughing pound of my own heart. The whole time, Edward stood still as a statue, until my fingertips reached the exposed flesh at his neck.

His skin was cold, or my hand was extremely hot. Indeed, I felt a bit clammy and feverish, but it didn't matter. As soon as I felt his neck, his eyes closed, and without the bright golden glow to draw my mesmerized gaze, my eyes could only fall to his tantalizing lips.

I softly stroked my way up his neck, agonizingly slowly, so that I could memorize every curve and tendon that rested immobile and frozen beneath my touch. He was so cold that I only wanted to touch him more with my hot hand. I pressed my palm flat against his neck, and I heard him breathe for the first time since standing so close to him. His small sharp gasp was like the hiss from opening a bottle of Perrier.

I continued the ascent of my hand toward his face while moving my other hand to his other arm. I had to take another step toward him. I couldn't help myself, and he didn't move away. He didn't open his eyes. He didn't move as I grabbed his elbow and began exploring his other arm in the same manner as I had done the first.

I kept the one hand still on his neck, just below his ear with my thumb against his strong jaw and my fingertips just under and against his ear. I stared into his face, caressing the planes of his cheekbones with my eyes. I licked my lips when I looked at his mouth. I smoothed my hand over his other arm, up past his shoulder, up to his neck, until both of my hands were in the same position surrounding his face.

By this time, I had inched forward until my thighs were against his thighs and my breasts were against his ribs. I subconsciously wished he would put his arms around me and crush me until our bodies were fused together, but I wasn't coherent enough to really think about that. I was lifting my face toward his.

He stood still as a statue. My knees were so week that I was fully leaning against him for support as I rose onto my tiptoes. He never moved. His face wasn't angled toward me for an easy kiss. His chin was set a little too high. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to reach his lips if he didn't cooperate, but I didn't even allow uncertainty to muddle and dilute my resolve. I was operating on instinct alone, and instinct told me that I had to taste him.

I pulled myself up his body by my grasping fingertips. He was so strong and so solid that he never even moved or flinched, even when my fingertips should have been pressing too fiercely into his flesh. I exhaled when my lips were a centimeter from his chin. It was a sigh of frustration because my body knew it couldn't reach its target. His lips were too far away.

But instinct took care of me. I took consolation in pressing my mouth against the bottom of his chin.

As soon as my hot mouth met his ice-cold flesh, he promptly seemed to melt. Suddenly his head fell toward mine. His arms were around me. He wasn't crushing me as hard I had hoped, but my heart stopped from the sudden contact of his strong hands against my back.

His movement snapped me out of my daze and I began to kiss every exposed bit of his skin that my mouth could reach. He was no longer frozen, but he seemed like he was fighting against himself to keep from responding to me. No matter how I turned my head to try to capture his lips, Edward moved his face. I had my fingers tangled into his hair, pulling him with all my weight to try to get him to submit to my mouth.

"Edward, please," I breathed, without even meaning to. I heard a low, guttural noise crawl up from his chest and escape violently from his throat. I saw my chance. I had weakened his resolve as much as I ever would, and I finally got my prize.

His lips were firm and cold like the rest of him, but they moved so softly and were supple against mine. Once I had my mouth on his, I felt a surge of power rush though my body. Electric energy ignited me. I suddenly had strength to pull myself against him, and I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck while encircling his hips with my legs. He held me against him as my ankles locked around him, and he kissed me with all the passion that I had ever dreamed of.

And more. He surpassed my wildest dreams as he held me and began to crush me tighter to his chest and pressed his mouth against my lips and gasped every time I bit at him and licked his mouth to try to get it to open. I realized after a while that I was moaning, whimpering. His lips would open a fraction, and I could feel the smooth surface of his tongue against his teeth, but he wouldn't let me in his mouth. I contented myself with sucking at his lips, and reveling in the dizziness that was sweeping me away.

I woke up with the sun pouring in through my window. I was disoriented, and gasping. Had it been a dream? I tried to clutch at the memory, believing it would begin to dissipate like all of the ephemera of dreamland as the clouds of sleep began to clear from my head. The sensations and intoxication would float away into the world of dim memory if I couldn't hold on. I was desperate to hang onto this experience with Edward. I replayed it all in vivid detail. I felt every sweet sensation.

I lay there for so long that I began to ache from holding myself tense in the desperation to not forget. The longer I lay there, the more it began to dawn on me little by little that the memory wasn't fading, wasn't evaporating, wasn't floating out of my grasp. It was strong and true and real.

REAL.

I rubbed my fingers against my face to push the sleep away, and I was stopped mid-movement by the overwhelming presence of his scent again. I sat up with a start and looked wildly around my room. Then, tentatively, hesitantly, I lifted my fingertips to my nose. There was his scent, so strong I could almost taste him again.

Real.

a/n: Thanks to everyone who is reviewing and encouraging me.


	18. Chapter 18

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Eighteen: A First Time For Everything

Once the FBI had combed the woods and turned up four more bodies, school was cancelled. People were leaving Forks in droves: getting a really early head start on the holidays, spending extra time at Grandma's, taking that Alaskan cruise they'd been thinking about.

Jazz still wasn't among the dead that had been identified. I didn't know if that made me feel better or worse. I hoped he was alive, but I hoped he wasn't alive somewhere in pain from having his bones crushed by the madman who had been ripping pieces of people's throats away.

Edward didn't show up for school on the couple of days that classes were held before the campus was locked down. It wasn't that odd for him to be absent, though, because so many people had already taken off. Still, I was crushed that he wasn't around. I longed to talk to him, see him, touch him, smell him, kiss him, taste him, hold him. When I watched the gruesome local news stories on the killings, I worried about him more than I worried about myself. I thought of calling him a million times, but I figured he must be out of town like most other people.

Charlie begged me to go to Florida until the killer was caught. He tried to bribe me by offering the promise of a trip to Disneyland the following summer as though I were seven years old instead of seventeen. But I couldn't leave him in Forks. If anything were to happen to him, I'd never have been able to forgive myself for running out on him like a coward.

And then there was Rose. Her dad wouldn't go either. He was president of Forks First National Bank, and he was a workaholic. And if her dad was staying, her mom was staying. And Rose didn't want to leave them in danger either. As long as my dad and my best friend were stuck in the same town as a serial killer, I'd stay as well, suicide or not.

I was allowed to go out during daylight hours as long as I stuck to the main streets and populated locations. All of the evidence uncovered so far pointed to the murders taking place between twilight and dawn. FBI agents and county sheriffs were a conspicuous presence everywhere. There were road blocks at the edge of town to screen comers and goers.

During the first week of Forks' occupation by various government investigative branches, Rose and I took turns having sleepovers at each others' houses. Then Charlie got touchy about us sleeping alone in the house when he was out at strange hours with different teams. I worried about him when he was gone after dark, so we were both making each other crazy. The later he stayed out, the more nervous I got, and the longer he left me and Rose in the house by ourselves, the more crazy he got. So eventually I packed up a couple of days worth of things and situated myself at Rose's house for a stint.

I felt constantly exhausted from the stress and anxiety. I never slept well at night. I was still haunted by my ghosts. I'd see a white blur outside Rose's window at night when I was pacing around the guest room, and I'd jump. But I was getting used to it, and that worried me.

Rose was still seeing Quil when they could. Midday dates only. Mostly, he'd pick her up and they'd hang out on the reservation admiring the beauty of nature: making out in his Camaro.

One afternoon when she was gone, I dozed off in her room where I had been reading her tattered copy of _The Tenant of Wildfell Hall_. I was startled awake by her climbing onto the bed next to me. She was crying.

"Rose, what happened?" I put my arms around her shoulders.

Her eyes glistened. "Oh Bella. I'm so stupid."

"Shhh. Hush. No you're not." I held Rose against my shoulder and rocked back and forth soothingly while stroking her billowing platinum locks in what I hoped was a comforting way. I was tensed, prepared to hear that another friend of ours was dead. I was tensed for her to tell me that she had stumbled across a body. I was ready for a horror story.

After the tears were spent and a long silence was observed, I reached for a tissue for my friend. "Do you want to tell me about it?" I asked tentatively, bracing myself for blood and gore.

"I went to his house with him."

For a moment I was at a loss. "Quil?"

"Yes," she sniffed. "His parents were home, so we went to his room and he put on some music. Kinda loud."

"Okay," I prompted. So far this story didn't seem to be going the direction I had expected.

"We made out on his bed for a while, and he asked if I was ready. I just nodded. I was beginning to be really scared." Rose spoke calmly now.

"Scared?"

All traces of the earlier heightened emotions were gone. "But I didn't want to back out. I just wanted to have it done with."

Comprehension dawned on me. "Sex?" The word came out in a whispered hiss, my surprise and realization rolled up into one powerful syllable.

She nodded, biting her lip. "He leaned me against his pillows and hovered over me, kissing me, and then he moved his hands all over me. On top of my clothes. The he pulled up my skirt and looked at me." Her eyes absentmindedly tracked the swirling pattern on her quilt as she spoke. "He looked at me and said. 'I'm going to take off your panties and then put a finger inside to stretch it a little. And if you want to stop then- if it hurts too much, just tell me.' And the way he looked at me, Bella..." She trailed off and the choking sound of sobs threatened to overtake her again.

"How did he look at you, Rose?" I wasn't going to press, but she seemed to need to get this out. I was already shocked beyond belief at what she was telling me, and I needed to know this detail that hung her up. I needed to know because she was my best friend, and I needed to know how to make this okay. I needed to know just how much to kill Quil, or just how much to get Jake to help me kill him.

"He looked like he loved me," she whispered and then met my eyes. She looked timid and worried. Then she suddenly stood up and began pacing around the room, wringing her hands. "He meant it, Bella. He would have stopped. He wanted me to stop it because he knew I was just using him and I didn't feel the same way he felt. But I just grabbed his neck and pulled his mouth to me and kissed him more." She stood by the window and gazed out with an unblinking glaze across her eyes. I was holding my breath.

"So he took off my panties," she continued in a quick, low voice, "and he reached his hand down and did just as he said. He pulled back after I gasped. It hurt a little. But I just bit my lip and clutched at him." She paused. I was holding my breath, but my heart was pounding violently as she continued.

"He said, 'I'm going to use two fingers, and then I'm gonna do it.' He just kept looking at me with his deep brown eyes. 'I'm gonna go slow at first, and when you're ready I'll speed up and go harder.' I don't even know how I managed to nod my head again that time. His voice was so low. I could barely hear him over the music, and all I could think of suddenly was that his whole family was in the next room."

I broke out of the trance her story had put me under and crossed the steps to her side in a big bound. I nearly knocked us both over as I hugged her. I didn't have any words at all. There was absolutely nothing to say. After a long time, Rose turned her back on the window and sat against the sill while I stood in front of her, my eyes resting unseeingly on the dusk-shadowed trees outside. I could see that she had more to the story, so I just waited for it. My stomach was churning.

"And then he did it," she breathed. "Exactly like he said." She was staring at her hands, and suddenly I heard Alice's lilting voice in my head saying, "Well? How was it, Rose?"

But Alice wasn't here for this. And suddenly her absence was tearing at me. I had to speak. "Alice would be throwing out the how-was-it-for-you lines about now."

Rose let out a small nervous laugh, so I did as well. She raised a hand to brush away a stray tear from her perfect lashes.

"It was horrible," she answered to Alice. "It felt like my abdomen was being ripped in half. It didn't even hurt between my legs. It hurt inside my belly. Like the worst cramps ever. When he was doing the-" she paused a moment for the word to come to her, "-thrusting, it felt a massive intruder inside me."

She looked at me with a furrowed brow that mirrored my own.

"I don't even know if he IS really big in that department, but it felt like he was smashing through my insides with a baseball bat."

I found myself clutching my arms over my belly, feeling the echo of her pain through her words. The silence began to swirl around us thickly. Were we even breathing?

"Did it get better?" I asked. I heard my own voice and knew I was asking for myself. One day I'd be in her shoes and I'd face that pain.

"Yeah," she answered slowly, lowly. "But no miraculous orgasm. At least not for me," she added in a little self-conscious laugh. "I just left as soon as he was off of me. I couldn't stand that I had used him when he seemed to wish so hard I felt something for him. But at the end I was just mad."

"Mad?"

"Because the whole time he was in me and I was trying so hard not to make any noise that might carry through the wall, I just wanted him to comfort me with kisses, but by then he wouldn't. He didn't kiss me during the most intimate part. It was like in that moment when he gave me the choice and I just kissed him, he realized he was wasting his love on me and he threw it out. The actual 'love making' was... _cold_." Rose stood then and moved over to the bed. I stayed glued to the spot in front of the window.

I thought to myself that maybe if love IS there, the pain isn't as bad. Maybe if the couple loves each other, it doesn't make anybody cry the way Rose had cried. I felt selfish for trying to make myself feel better when Rose was the one in pain, but I was scared for myself by then. I had to rationalize myself out of the inevitable misery somehow.

I had to have hope.

I was jarred out of these thoughts by a movement by the edge of the wood outside. For a moment I thought I had seen a small girl with wide black eyes and funky black hair standing out against a pale face. I thought I had seen Alice. I threw the window open with a thud and leaned out.

"What is it, B?" Rose was resurrected into her fully composed and confident self by my rash move and the ensuing bang. I leaned there without answering her, looking for rustle of leaves, listening for the crackle of a twig- or even for the howl of a ghost. That's what I had seen, right? A ghost? The same old ghost. But it looked so real.

Then a breeze floated in and practically felt my eyes dilate and my heart rate excel as my senses were assaulted with hunger and desire. Edward was out there somewhere in the gathering dark.

My bones turned to ice, and I began to feel panic rising in my heart. He was always out there. Always near me. Always lurking. But why? Wasn't he afraid of the killer? Wasn't he cold out there? Wasn't he out of town? Why hadn't he called me?

"Bella? What's wrong? Close the window. It's cold." Rose's voice was in the background, but slowly it seeped into my consciousness, and I mutely obeyed her. My mind was working. Whirring. Hammering out a thought.

I reached for my phone and dialed.

"Dad?"

"What is it, Bells? Is something wrong?'

Rose was staring at me with her eyes wide and her face pale while I spoke to my father. "No. Well, I don't think so anyway." I hesitated. "Can you do something for me?"

"Yeah. Of course. Tell me."

"In our yard. At home. There are footprints by the tree line. I think they might match that print by Alice's house that you couldn't ID."

There was silence for a few moments. I braced myself for him to panic. "What? Bella, what are you talking about?"

"Dad. Really. I'm sure of it."

"Honey, have you been sleeping at all?" His voice was beginning to take on a patronizing tone, and I couldn't allow that. I had to be understood. I had to be believed. I had to make this puzzle fit together somehow.

"Dad, look. I know this is out of the blue, but it just dawned on me. I-" how could I describe the threads that I was trying to connect without making him more suspicious of my sanity? "I was out in the yard when I was at home for some clean clothes and I saw footprints."

"When, Bella?" He was all business now. I had his attention. Shit. I didn't want an overreaction.

"A few days ago. Before I came ot stay at Rose's."

"Footprints? What makes you think they'd match the one from the crime scene?"

"Well, there was a weird smell."

"Bella, honey, you're really not making sense. I want you to slow down and start over.

"Okay. Dad. Look. When we showed up at Alice's place that day, there was a weird smell, and you found a mystery footprint. You found another mystery footprint but not the SAME one at the cemetery where there was no smell. Then, at home, i smelled that smell again, and there were footprints, and somehow it just makes sense to me that the smell ties it together."

Charlie sighed. "A smell, Bella?"

"The word smell is starting to not even sound like a real word anymore," I tried to make light of the conversation now because I was getting apprehensive about what I was stirring up.

"Can you describe it? I haven't noticed anything."

Shit. No one had noticed it but me, had they? Rose was staring at me, clearly she had no idea what smell I was referring to. Olfactory hallucination? "It just smelled sweet. Out of the ordinary."

"There are flowering plants around," he suggested unconvincingly.

"No there aren't. Not this time of year." Shit! What was I doing. He had offered me a logical way to write this off and kill this conversation. Why was I being insistent? Gah! "Maybe the footprints aren't even there anymore." I added lamely. As soon as I said it, I knew it wouldn't be enough to keep Charlie from looking at this point. He'd look, he find the footprints if they were there, he'd get one casted to compare to the one on file. It would match the one from Alice's house. It would be Edward's print.

"Maybe. It has been raining a lot." I could hear him scribbling in his notebook. "What else can you tell me? Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Dad, I..." Shit shit shit. "I didn't make the connection til just now. I've just been thinking and thinking about it, and it's been nagging at the back of my mind. I just think that...I don't know. Maybe it WAS just the scent of some flowing plants..."

"Bella, why are you telling me specifically where to look for the prints? You're leaving something out. So help me, I'm on my way over to the Hale's right now to pick you up and drive you to the airport."

"No!" Crap. Now I was panicking. I could feel my heart rate accelerating. "There was a shadow- kind of. In the tree line. It was probably just a branch moving. I don't know why I thought it might have been something..." I trailed off. Shit I had messed up. Why did I call Charlie? Did I really think that he'd check for footprints without asking me a million questions? Stupid stupid stupid!

I heard muffled voices from Charlie's end of the line, and I looked up at Rose's frightened face. She clearly realized that something outside of her window had sparked this realization I was telling Charlie about. Her wide eyes and pale face were just two more reasons for me to kick myself for making this call instead of keeping this idea to myself.

What if the footprint was Edward's anyway? What would that prove? The first footprint outside of Alice's house was Alice's own print. Big deal. No matter that the print was still in tact a full month after the last time she could have possibly walked out that door. If that other print belonged to Edward, his print could have lasted just as long in the same miraculous way. All it proved was that he had been over to his quasi-cousin's house. In essence, it proved nothing.

"Bells, I've got to go. Pack up your things. I'll be by to pick you up in a while." With that edict and a click he was gone. I sighed. This wasn't what I wanted at all. I couldn't be shipped off to Florida to stay with my mother while the rest of my loved ones stayed behind.

For the first time in my life, I was going to have to stand up to Charlie. I tossed my phone on Rose's bed and threw my arms around her in a tight hug. "I'm so sorry, Rose. I'm so sorry for not being a better friend for you."

"What do you mean, Bella? What's going on? You're scaring me." Her breathing was shallow. I cringed. After the day she'd had, I was being the worst friend ever. I wan't giving her the support she needed. I didn't know what to do.

"Rose, before I tell you anything, I have to know if you're alright." I looked at her intently, watching for any sign of hesitation, of lying.

She pulled her lips into a half-hearted grimace and nodded her head, "I'm gonna be fine. I just needed to tell you."

"Oh Rose." I sighed. "I wish I could fix your pain."

"I'm fine. Really. This is what I wanted." She let out a scoffing breath of a laugh. It was mirthless like her eyes, and my heart broke for her.

"What's next, Rose?"

She shrugged. "When I figure it out, you'll be the first to know. Now, please tell me what that phone call was about."

I launched into my story. I told her everything. I had to. She was my only ally. Or at least she was the only one I could really trust. I told her about Jake's cryptic warning. I told her about the scent and the strange way Dr. Cullen had acted in the hospital on the night that Alice had died. I told her about the ghosts and the kiss and the electricity I could feel inside my blood whenever Edward was near me. I told her every detail that I could drudge up from my mind, and for the first time since before I was sick with that cursed pneumonia that started all of this, I felt relaxed. I was sitting on Rose's bed with her, pouring my heart out to her as she had done for me, and just saying everything out loud took such a weight off of my soul.

"You're in love with him." Those were the first words that Rose spoke after an hour of listening to me and a further several minutes of complete silence between us.

"What?" I answered, slightly in awe of her realization.

"You should see your eyes when you say his name, Bella."

I took a deep breath. Love? Really? I had throw the word around, but it was a future word. It was something to look forward to. I didn't have time for angst and drama and unrequited feelings. "I can't leave, Rose. I can't leave you and him and Charlie."

"Is he really going to send you away?" She looked as forlorn at the prospect as I felt.

I only sighed.

And then the doorbell rang. Time to stand up to Charlie. How was I going to do that?

a/n: Can you feel the big climax coming on? I can. Let me know what you think.


	19. Chapter 19

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Nineteen: Hanging On The Telephone

I wasn't ready for Charlie when he showed up. I mean, I was braced for him. I knew he was coming. But I was deliberately not ready to leave Rose's room. I left him sitting in Rose's kitchen with her mother, sipping coffee and making painful small talk about the disappearances. I could hear the low timber of his voice as he spoke, but his words were not discernable.

Rose and I were strategizing while I was "getting dressed." The only thing I could think of to make Charlie wait and thus buy me a little time was to turn the shower on and pretend to be naked. That would keep him far away. And the running water would mask our voices. Eventually, we turned the water off and I began slowly filling my overnight bag, knowing I could only drag my feet for so long. We still wracked our brains for a plan that would keep me from being shipped off to Jacksonville.

"Hey!" Rose exclaimed in an excited whisper. "What about La Push?"

"What about it?"

"Quil has told me a million times that it's safer there than in Forks. The disappearances are all from Forks, and all of the victims are all residents of Forks, and the police lines are all miles from La Push."

I was starting to see the glimmering brilliance of her scheme.

Rose continued, "Look, you've got to convince Charlie to let you stay with Jake and Billy. They love you. Jake ALWAYS asks about you, and Billy is Charlie's best friend. Practically family."

"It could work," I agreed. I was starting to be hopeful.

We had already decided that the best way to manipulate Charlie once we came up with some kind of goal was to lay on the hysterics. Tears would weaken his resolve. Rose and I would weep and make a show of our distress.

It was beautiful that as soon as we got to the kitchen with red eyes and tears, Rose's mother started crying too. Charlie was bombarded by three sobbing women, dabbing their eyes. We weren't even pretending; the stress of the situation pulled our raw emotions to the surface. He heard our case. Rose's mother even argued with us for the sake of her daughter who swore she couldn't bear to be without her best friend during this trying situation.

It took forty minutes before Charlie was on the phone to Billy. I squeezed Rose's hand under the table. At least I'd be close and we'd be able to meet up.

It had occurred to us during our drawn out strategizing session in Rose's room that the accepted theory about daylight hours being violence-free in Forks was probably wishful thinking. Rob and Kris would not have been in the woods behind the school after dark. Maybe it was dusky, we reasoned. Kris and Rob both had extra-curricular activities that kept them on campus til around 4:30. In winter, the sun set early enough that it could easily have been twilight when they were discovered by the bad guy. Or bad guys. Rose and I weren't ruling out more than one suspect, but I strongly suspected Creepy Guy, and I had never seen anyone with him.

It was pitch black as Charlie drove me to La Push in the cruiser. As we passed through the roadblock at the edge of the city, I overheard something about another missing person. I shivered. How long would this go on?

I thought back over the conversations with Rose. What a day! She'd had sex with one of Jake's best friends. Would he know about it? Would it be the elephant in the room while I was staying at his house? Would Quil have felt the things that Rose had attributed to the situation? Would he have confided in his friend as Rose had confided in hers? I sighed as Charlie rolled on toward the reservation. Would my head ever stop swimming with too many questions?

Now that I was no longer in denial about Edward stalking me, I had a lot to think of there. Rose had said I should call him since he was obviously not out of town, despite how I was trying to attribute his silent distance since our kiss to the contrary. I was floundering on that. On the one hand, I desperately wanted to hear his voice, so I was sorely tempted to call him. On the other hand, I was hurt that he was keeping his distance. Had I imagined the passion in that kiss? No. No way.

I was jarred out of my reverie when Charlie's headlights fell on a flutter of color along the highway near the edge of the reservation. The memorial. I stared at it as we sped by. With the element of shock and surprise gone, I wouldn't react like the last time I saw it. This time, it was just a memorial to my dearest friend. It caused me to think about her.

I missed Alice just as much as I expected I would when my grief was raw and fresh. I missed her laugh and her cookies and her impromptu shopping sprees. I missed our sleepovers and her bicycle and our late night trips to the supermarket to see Jazz.

Jazz.

I was glad that Alice wasn't having to live through the current horror. I thought of how distraught she would be while his name was on the missing persons list and a murderer was terrorizing our town. It was better that she missed this nightmare. There was one small mercy.

We pulled up to the Blacks' house, and Charlie went inside with me. Jake showed me to his sisters' vacant room while Charlie spent a few minutes at the kitchen table with Billy.

The room I'd be living in for the next few days- or more- was decorated in soft greens. Heavy wooden bunk beds sat against one wall while a desk jutted out from the other with chairs on both sides of it. I dropped my bag on the lower bunk while Jake sat heavily in the chair closer to the door.

"So," he began, "you hungry or anything?" He was distant, not making eye contact.

Oh. Jake's still mad about the Edward thing. Damn. "Uh, no. Not really. Just tired. It's been a long day."

As if to agree with me, Jake yawned widely. It was contagious, as yawns are, and we laughed at each other when we both couldn't control ourselves. It was a good ice-breaker. "I'll show you where the towels are and stuff," Jake beckoned for me to follow him out of the room. He showed me the small linen cupboard outside of the bathroom, and he showed me how to hold the hot water handle all the way to one side for a minute before the hot water in the shower would really start flowing.

I didn't want a shower, but I figured it would be a good way to have a little alone time. I didn't want to get into a conversation about Edward with Jacob right now. Rose was right. I needed to talk to Edward.

I let the hot water drum against the back of my neck and I thought about Edward. I thought about the few stolen moments of intensity that we had shared. I thought about how his beautiful eyes peered so deeply into mine that I felt like he could carve out all my secrets with them- like peeling the skin from an apple with a sharp knife. I thought about how cold his skin had been when he was standing out behind my house in the night. I worried.

How long could he keep up those vigils before he came down with something or was slaughtered by Creepy Guy? I suddenly felt so selfish for enjoying his presence. I had been enjoying it. I had been denying that he was there, but on some level, I always knew it was him, and I took comfort in it. I liked that he was looking out for me. It didn't feel creepy or wrong. He wasn't some stalker.

Or was he? If I was honest with myself, I didn't know Edward very well. I first layed eyes on him around the time this whole nightmare started. If I was certain that the whole situation had some kind of connection to Alice, then how could I so easily rule Edward out of some kind of involvement? He definitely had a connection to Alice. His footprints had been everywhere.

Except the cemetery. But most of the paths there were gravel. There was only that one footprint.

No. I couldn't believe anything negative about Edward. Most of my theories about the big mystery that was killing Forks were all based on intuition. And my intuition told me that Edward wasn't some kind of monster.

I sighed and dragged myself out of the shower. The towel smelled nice like it was dried on a line outside. I wondered when they would have found a sunny enough day for that.

When I stepped out into the narrow hallway, the door to Jake's bedroom was closed, so I just padded on past it on my bare feet. I quietly shut the door to my own new little sanctuary and sighed. I climbed into the bed and opened _The Tenant of Wildfell Hall_, but I couldn't concentrate on the page. Instead, I gazed out the window, lost in my thoughts again.

I must have stared out the window for hours. It was completely dark and still outside. There were no sounds of wind or rain. After a while, I was startled by a soft thud. I looked around myself, momentarily confused by my surroundings. I must have dozed off, and the book slipped onto the floor beside the bed. The bedside lamp was still glowing, and when I turned it off, the light glow emanating from the window seemed almost bright. Morning was dawning. I punched the pillows and settled back into them. My body ached from falling asleep propped upright against the headboard. I sighed and continued to stare out into the peace surrounding the little house. It was eerily quiet.

The quiet was gone when I woke up again. The sunlight was hidden behind a steely grey cover of cloud, causing a too-bright whiteness to blind me as soon as I tried to open my eyes. I rolled over, burying my face in the pillow, listening to the sounds of laughter, forks clanking, a shower running, a car going by outside.

A light tap sounded at my door and I looked over my shoulder to see Jake peek his head in. "Hey."

"Hey," I croaked.

"Going to school now. Help yourself to anything. Billy watches bass fishing all day, so feel free to go down to the beach or whatever."

I nodded, and he left. It hadn't even occurred to me that the school on the reservation was still having classes. It also hadn't occurred to me that I could wander around outside by myself. I wondered if it was really safe.

Why not?

If it wasn't safe, I was sure Jake wouldn't have suggested it.

I heard the low monotone of the television in the background, and I let myself doze off again. Sleep had been fleeting all night, and I still felt too weary to face a day of nothing to do.

I lazed in catatonia until midday. I got up and cleaned up and found some cereal in the kitchen. Billy was whittling with a newspaper across his lap to catch the wood shavings while he listened to the men on the television talk about how strong the fish was that was fighting on the line. I was almost overwhelmed by the intense need to get away from the house.

First Beach was quiet.

Everything was quiet.

The whole world was on mute.

I didn't like it any more than I had the night before.

My skin tingled in the silence.

Even the waves that rippled in the retreating tide seemed to be muffled.

I pulled at my earlobes, as though that would cause the volume of the world to adjust back to the correct level.

It didn't work.

My own sigh sounded a bit too loud as I crumpled wearily onto a driftwood log that jutted out white and stark against the damp sandy beach. I had brought the book with me, but once again, I didn't even really attempt to focus on the type. I let my thoughts guide me along the trail of clues that begged to be deciphered.

Alice. William. Car wreck. Dr. Cullen. Edward. Jazz. Creepy Guy. Murders. Sigh.

One at a time.

Out of the list that had just gone through my head, the first thing that I decided I needed to know more about was the car wreck. Jake had said that the information about the skid marks and footage of the wrecked sports car were on the local news. If I could get to a computer, I bet I could find archives.

But I had no computer just then.

I took out my phone, figuring that one o'clock was neither too early nor too late to call Rose.

"Have you talked to Edward yet?" Yeah, hello to you too, Rose. I'm fine. Thanks for asking.

"No."

"Coward."

"I need you to look something up for me," I changed the subject, getting things back on track. I asked her to check for any details she could get on the wreck that took Alice's life. I wasn't prepared for her hesitation.

"Bella, I don't know if I can take it." her voice was small. Quiet. I was sick of all the quiet.

So I yelled, "Rose! We have to face this. We have to deal. No one is asking the right questions, for some reason. Our friends are dying and disappearing, and the only thing that will keep me sane through this is to try to figure it out. I thought we agreed on that last night."

Damn it! She was quiet again.

"Rose?"

"Yeah. You're right. I'm checking." I could hear her fingers clacking against the keys of her laptop. I waited in excruciating silence as she worked. I heard a video play on her end of the phone, but I couldn't really make out the words that the reporter was saying. I could tell that Rose was still searching while the video played.

"Here's something," she said. "Holy shit!"

"What? Rose! What?!"

"Bella, the car they fished out of the ocean was stolen in Seattle."

"Yeah?" And? Is that worth swearing about?

"And the owner was found dead a couple of days later." Her voice was hushed.

"Dead?"

"Dead just like Rob and Kris and the others."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, no. I'm no coroner or doctor, and the details are scarce here, but the article in the Seattle paper mentions multiple fractures and massive blood loss."

"Why hasn't Charlie mentioned that everything is connected, then?"

"Maybe he doesn't know."

"Yeah," I pondered this. The wreck took place about a month before Forks began to be terrorized. It's possible that no one connected the incidents together.

"Hunh." Rose sounded like she was chewing her lip. I paced around the driftwood log. Around and around. I ran my fingers through my hair. If Rose didn't finish her thought soon, I was going to explode. "Well," she began.

"Well what?!"

"Take a pill, Bella, I'm reading."

I sighed.

"Okay, apparently they have a photo of the guy who stole the car."

"Oh my God! That's awesome!"

"He ran a red light, and the traffic camera in the intersection picked him up." I was about to have her describe the guy to me. I knew it was Creepy Guy. "But the photo can't be released to the public." My heart sank.

"Damn. It's him, though. I know it."

"Bella?" Her voice was suddenly tentative, so I knew immediately that she was changing the subject to something more personal.

"Yeah? How're you holding up today, Rose?"

She let out a breathy laugh, "Get out of my head! I was just going to ask you that."

"I'm fine, Rose. Jake's at school. Billy's watching fishing. I'm on the beach. Can you come out here?"

"Maybe I can get a ride out there tomorrow. I wonder if I am still gonna get my car this month..."

"As soon as the drama is over, I'm sure you will." It was beyond weird to discuss such normal stuff. "You okay?"

She sighed. "I kinda miss Quil. He hasn't called. I haven't called him. But if he calls me tonight, I'll be relieved and conflicted. I really got to like him, but I don't know if I can ever face him again after yesterday. I don't know if I ever want to see him again or not."

"Poor you," I murmured, and I meant it. I couldn't pretend to know what she was going through. "I wish everything wasn't so screwed up. Do you think you're gonna talk to Emmett anytime soon?"

"Yeah," she said confidently. "I'm going to call him as soon as I kill all of the butterflies that have invaded my guts." I laughed. "What about you, B? When are you gonna call Edward?"

"I don't know what to say to him!" I couldn't help the bit of a whine that invaded my voice.

"How about just asking him why he's been stalking you? How about checking to see how high his fever is from all that pneumonia he's got from standing outside in the cold all the time? How about telling him that you want to stick your tongue down his throat again?"

"Rose!" I couldn't help but giggle at that last suggestion. Then I sobered. "I was kind of hoping he would call me."

"Yeah, and I've been hoping Emmett would get a clue for months now. Take the initiative. Men are slow."

Wow. Rose's advice sounded really smart.

I ended the conversation with her after another half hour of idle chat and an exhaustive review of the facts that we were trying to piece together about the horror show that our lives had become.

Once again, I was facing a call to Charlie to give him my point of view. I was anticipating guardedness on his part, but what I got was. "Bells, no more Nancy Drew. You need to think about other things, honey. Better things."

"Dad, I need this. I need to think about whatever will make this whole things stop. I can't stand being afraid any more."

That shut him up.

"Dad, please look into it. Please. You've got my description of Creepy Guy. If they're nothing alike, then I promise: no more Nancy Drew." This was a deal he was happy to make until I brought up the footprints again.

"Bells, I am not discussing the case with you any more right now." That was the end of the conversation with Charlie, but I noticed the "right now" part of his declaration. He wasn't flat out refusing to talk to me about it. He had practically promised to fill me in later.

With my phone back in my pocket, I went back to listening to how quiet everything around me was. It wasn't even all that cold outside, considering it was December. I was bundled up, but I was warmer than I had been on Jazz's birthday. I propped the tattered paperback up in my gloved fingers and dug my heels into the sand, getting comfy so I could drown out the silence by getting lost in my book.

Eventually, I was startled out of Bronte's dismal moorland by the sound of laughter coming up the beach to my right. I jumped out of my skin as the silence was shattered.

"BELLAAAAAAA!" It was Jake and Quil and Embry. I sighed. They invaded the beach noisily, and soon the disquiet I had been experiencing because of the overwhelming quiet that had settled around me since the night before dissipated and dissolved. Jake and his friends were noisy and bright and laughing and warm, and I felt sincerely comfortable with them all afternoon. We threw rocks into the surf, we chased away some gulls, we formulated a plan for summer spelunking in nearby underwater caverns. We had fun.

That night, back in the bottom bunk of Jake's sister's bed, the uneasy feeling crept back in, though. The world was too quiet out in La Push. Around midnight, when I was still staring out the window with my eyes wide open and sleep eluding me completely, I sighed. I opened the window a crack and sighed again. The still, cold air was awash with the fragrance of verdant life and rich damp earth, but there was no overlying comfort lingering over the heavy moist molecules of air.

I missed Edward.

My restlessness was because of his absence.

All of a sudden a chilling sheen of sweat enveloped my skin, and my breathing became labored. He wasn't there.

Edward wasn't there.

For the first time in weeks, for the first time since even before I had put two and two together, Edward wasn't there.

My heart was dying. Something had happened to Edward.

It was about one o'clock when I had finally worked up the nerve to call his house for the second time in my life. The late hour was a concern, but I was too overwhelmed with worry to let it stop me. If I woke him, I woke him. He deserved to lose a little sleep; after all he was keeping me up.

But I became skittish as I began to dial. Maybe because of the general tension. Maybe because the realization that I missed him stalking me was freaking me out a little.

Maybe because I had suddenly realized how addicted to him I had become.

So I punched out the numbers for his house and listened to it ring. He answered.

"Hello." He sounded tired, but his voice was by no means thick with sleep.

"Edward."

"Bella." He sounded as relieved to hear my voice as I was to hear his. "Bella, how are you?"

"I'm..." I wasn't sure. "I'm not sure. Alright. I guess." There was an awkward pause. "How're you?"

He gave me a taste of his low chuckle, and I felt my insides squirm. I could envision the way his wry semi-smile would crinkle up his eyes. "I'm…" he paused as I had, "just a bit stressed, I suppose."

"Yeah." Conversation was difficult, but I couldn't understand why. "You're not sick or anything are you?"

"No."

Okay. Too. Much. Quiet. I decided to try introducing a topic. "I thought you had gone out of town."

"No." He paused. I almost though that one syllable would be his whole answer. But then he added "Carlisle wouldn't leave the hospital right now."

"Oh."

Silence.

Awkward.

"You wouldn't go on your own?" I remembered when he was absent before.

"Not this time, no. I won't leave my family."

"Yeah. I know what you mean."

"I guess you don't get to see much of your father right now, do you?"

"He's been pretty busy. I'm staying at La Push," I blurted out. The next words I uttered were daring and deliberate, "but you already knew that."

There was silence.

"Edward?"

"Bella, I've been worried about you."

"You have?"

"I have."

"I've missed you, Edward."

I heard him sigh, "I know what you mean."

I swallowed loudly. My heart was pounding. "Since you don't have school, maybe you could come up to the beach tomorrow?"

"I'd like that-"

"Me too." Did I sound too eager?

"-But I can't." Yes. I definitely sounded too eager. I felt like he had kicked my heart out.

"Can't?" It wasn't anything more than a whisper.

"Don't go wandering around, Bella."

"Thanks, Edward. Bye." I hung up suddenly, before I sucked a rasping breath into my chest. Hot tears welled in my eyes, and I sniffed.

He was so distant and quiet. He was still in town but no longer hanging around me. To be fair, it was completely unreasonable for me to be sad that he stopped stalking me. But his presence had been a constant comfort. I missed him palpably. I longed for the nearness that I had grown so accustomed to.

I wanted him.

_a/n: will the madness ever end? will Charlie get a clue?will Bella and Rose become the next great girl detectives?_


	20. Chapter 20

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Twenty: So Pale

When I woke up, I decided I couldn't take another dreary day on the beach. I also couldn't watch fishing and make small talk with Billy. After sitting on the sofa for ten minutes, wandering around in my tiny room for another five, and then staring at the pages of my book for several more, I gave up. I paced the bright, tiny kitchen, looking for solace in a passtime that could occupy my hands and bring tranquility to my mind.

I decided to make a lasagne from scratch. I could spend hours on it, easily. I dug through the small pantry and the fridge, making a list of things I'd need to buy.

"Can I help you find something, Bella?" Billy called at me from his chair in front of the television.

"Umm, I thought I'd make a nice dinner for you and Jake tonight. To thank you for putting up with me."

He rolled in behind me, "You don't need to do that. We're happy to have you here."

I faced him with a forced smile. "I know. You guys are great. But I really need to do something, and cooking is about my only skill. Everybody wins!" Was the brightness in my voice too much?

Billy made note of the list in my hand and nodded at me. He picked up the keys on a peg by the back door. "You can take Jake's car to the store," he offered. "Do you know the way?"

The reservation was small, but I couldn't recall if I had been to the little store in the middle of La Push before. Billy saw the crease in my forehead and pulled a pen out of a drawer behind him. He scrawled a very basic map into the notebook by the telephone and described the route to me, pointing at the little square representing the house and then the little square representing the store with the tip of the pen.

As soon as I saw him reach for his wallet, I stopped him, "No! No no no. I'm doing this. It's not much." The usual back and forth over the cost of groceries died out eventually, and I took my list and the keys and left.

Inside of Jacob's car, I was able to relax for the first time that day. The rumble of the engine killed the oppressive silence that had been suffocating me, and I helped to exaggerate the din by turning the radio up much too loudly.

Noise!

I felt myself smile as I sang along to the aggressively happy music.

And I missed the turn because I was revelling in the tiny sparkle of happiness that had seeped into the car.

I didn't notice when I passed the border of the reservation. There was no roadblock like at the edge of Forks. There was nothing to let me know I was leaving La Push other than a small, faded sign that said "Welcome to La Push" on the side facing away from me.

It didn't even occur to me that I had been driving for a full five minutes on the highway until I had to slow for the first curve around the sea cliffs.

Crap.

The first spot that was wide enough for me to turn the car around was where the shoulder of the road jutted out by the memorial.

I slowed the car, attempted a u-turn, and stalled the engine when I was getting too close to the edge and had to try to get the cranky Volkswagon into reverse.

I cursed, but I didn't try to re-start the car right away. As long as I was there, I decided that it wouldn't hurt to get out and have a closer look at the wall of pictures and tributes to Alice- this time without the hysteria.

I pulled the parking brake and stepped out away from the cliff edge. I looked over the top of the small car, out into the sea. I saw the white surf crashing below. I imagined the terror of a car going over the edge.

How stupid was I?

If that Maserati was stolen by Creepy Guy, there is no way he could have survived the fall. I was surprised that they were even able to salvage any pieces of the car that were bigger than a postage stamp. The ocean was vicious down below the cliff. Vicious and savage. Whomever had been driving that car was long dead. Shark food. Why had I been so conviced it was Creepy Guy? What an idiot. No wonder Charlie was put out with my theorizing.

I sighed and walked across the empty road, slowly approaching the fluttering banner. It was still as tacky as ever. Alice would have rolled her eyes. Her eyes. I looked at the hundred sets of her eyes smiling at me from the Xeroxed yearbook images plastered on the rock. There were many fewer than there had been before. They were also considerably more tattered than before. Rain-soaked, warped, puckered, torn. I ran my fingertips across some of the pages. I read some of the messages. "We miss you Alice." "God belss you, Alice."

"Pretty pretty Alice."

I jumped out of my skin as the silence was obliterated by a gravel-encrusted voice. I gasped a sharp intake of breath as I spun around, and my hands flew to my throat. My eyes searched wildly for the source of the voice, and every hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end as I focussed on the man who was strolling toward me.

"Do you miss Alice, Bella?"

How did he know my name?

"I bet she misses you."

He was swaggering toward me, oozing dangerous confidence.

"I bet she'll miss you even more tomorrow."

The color of his jacket made his bloodshot eyes look even more red.

"Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting to get you alone, Bella?"

He was ten feet from me when he stopped. He smelled strongly of leather and mud: earthy and warm. On anyone else it would have been a sexy smell, but despite his handsome face, those red eyes cancelled out all attraction. Creepy Guy couldn't smell nice, couldn't look nice, and certainly didn't act nice.

He just stood there for an indefinable amount of time with his head tilted to the side, staring into my eyes as I was rooted immobile against the cliff face. Sheets of paper fluttered and swished around my head while the wind whispered past my frozen form.

"What's wrong, Bella? Nothing to say?" He smiled a sinister smile. I wondered if it was meant to be an inviting gesture, intended to make me feel comfortable enough to speak. Instead it was menacing. His entire presence was menacing. From his stature to his shivering hair to his sneering mouth to his blood-red eyes to his fecund scent: everything was bad. Wrong.

He stepped closer to me, and I flinched. This made him smile widely at me as he leaned in closer. I braced myself, not knowing whther he would grab me or hit me or rip me apart with his glittering white teeth. All he did was sniff me.

Like a dog.

He leaned in and inhaled.

His skin was so pale.

"Mmm, Bella," he murmured in his low rattlesnake voice, "I could just. Eat. You. Up." He sneered at me, but I am certain it was meant to look like some form of warm, inviting smile. I turned my head away from his face and realized that my movements were jerky. I was shaking all over.

If I hadn't been leaning against the cliff face, I'd have been a useless pile of Bella on the pavement.

"Please leave me alone."

I have no idea how those words came out of my mouth. I wasn't aware of formulating the thought or of finding my voice. To be fair, my voice was incredibly feeble. I was just leaning there, squinting into the cloudy mid-morning monster movie that was playing out in front of me, croaking out a pathetic plea to a serial killer who knew my name.

And when I spoke, he acted like it was Christmas and I had given him a delightful toy, and he moved closer to me.

"Bella! Beautiful Bella. I'm so glad you're not giving me the silent treatment." He smiled even more widely, if that was possible. "To be perfectly honest," he reached out a finger to touch my lower lip. His hand was icy cold, and I flinched, "I really want to hear you scream."

I began to hyperventilate at his touch. His proximity caused adrenaline to course through my blood. My ears were ringing with the pounding of my heart. My muscles were screaming at me in confusion, undecided regarding fight or flight or crumble.

Crumble was winning, and my knees were giving out when suddenly a white blur streaked into my periphery from the right, and an ear-splitting explosion deafened me.

My eyes shut reflexively at the deafening noise, and I must have screamed as I curled in upon myself and cowered behind my shielding arms there against the rock wall because a few seconds later I was aware of my throat stinging. My ears were still ringing from the explosion, and my senses were trying to make me understand that Creepy Guy was no longer standing right in front of me. I prayed that maybe a car had come barrelling up the quiet highway and run the guy over, missing me by an inch. Or maybe it had been a gunshot. Either way, I opened my eyes, hoping to see my savior.

My ears rang. I couldn't hear anything, and that made it so much harder to make sense out of what I was seeing.

There was movement. Blurry movement. It reminded me of the streak of the ghost I had been accustomed to spying outside my window at night. I was crouched, panting, sobbing. I could feel wet tears on my face. But I couldn't hear anything, and I couldn't breathe properly, and I couldn't see-

Edward.

The blurriness stopped for a split second, and I saw Edward grappling with Creepy Guy. They were trying to rip each other's arms off, and I couldn't tell who was winning.

I screamed his name from my broken throat. My own voice sounded like a muffled echo in my head.

In times of crisis, I should always keep my mouth shut.

Because all that happened was that Creepy Guy looked right toward me when I yelled, and he kocked Edward's hands away and he sprinted at me.

Somehow, Edward was faster.

I have no idea how I managed not to pass out, and I am not even really sure what happened, but at least I instinctively knew enough not to struggle when Edward encircled me with his arms and legs. I think that somehow the scent of his skin worked on my senses like an opiate. Whatever it was, I was calm enough not to fight him, even when I realized that he had just thrown us over the cliff.

I clutched at him tighter when my brain caught up with his actions. I have no idea if I screamed or not as we fell. And fell. And fell. It seemed to take ages, but I'm sure that was only because of the surreal terror that gripped me and urged me to take stock of the last seconds fo my life.

_At least I would die in Edward's arms_ I thought. Anything was better than becoming another victim of the serial killer.


	21. Chapter 21

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Twenty-One: Eadem mutata resurgo: "Though changed I shall arise the same"

We plunged feet-first into the icy water. Edward had my head cradled against his chest with one arm and my torso secured snugly to him with the other. One leg was wrapped around both of mine, keeping them extended. He was like a padded envelope around me- except for the padding. Just before our feet hit the water, he covered my nose and mouth with his cold fingers, which was good: otherwise I'd have gasped up two lungs full of ocean as soon as the shock of the water hit my skin.

I started panicking as we decended lower and lower into the cold ocean. Edward kept his arms tight around me and his hand over my face. He must have sensed my panic because he pressed a small, comforting, distracting kiss against my temple.

My ears were still ringing from the sound of the explosion, and now they were filled with icy water, and the new dull rushing sound whooshed deafeningly through my head. I started to feel pain in my chest from holding my breath. As our fall through the icy depths toward the ocean floor slowed, I began to black out. The only thing holding sheer terror at bay was Edward's grip.

"Bella! Open your eyes, damn it! Breathe!"

I felt a cough wrack my body, and water erupted painfully from my mouth and nose.

"Bella Bella Bella, please breathe now."

I was cold. Too cold to even shiver. I managed to open one eye, and at first I was confused. We were still in the water.

I felt a painful blow against my ribs, and another gush of water escaped every orifice in my face, shocking both eyes wide open.

We were in the water, moving at a speed that blurred the coastline. Somehow, Edward was swimming a one-armed backstroke with me draped over his chest, and he was pressing the water out of my lungs at the same time.

No. Clearly there must be a tow line. A boat was out ahead of us, towing us along.

My body felt heavier at around the same time I realized I was lying on wet sand. Alone.

I heard another loud explosion, not quite as close to me as the one before had been, and I sat up to see where it had come from. Rivulets of water streamed out of my ears and nose. I was shivering violently. There was no sign of a boat or a tow line or Edward. But suddenly two people appeared beside me.

Dr. Cullen and his wife materialized out of nowhere.

The beautiful young woman knelt at my side as the doctor sprinted ahead toward the source of loud crashes and animal noises. "Bella, sweetheart, I'm going to take you someplace safe."

I couldn't focus on her words because I was straining to see Dr. Cullen and Edward in the near distance. Creepy Guy and Edward had clearly been fighting, but once the doctor arrived on the scene, they broke apart from one another. Creepy Guy was backing away.

I strained my eyes to see if Edward was hurt.

I gasped.

There were no cuts and bruises, but his sodden shirt was torn and clinging to him like a second skin. I could make out his physique between the rips and drips, and nothing about him was seventeen years old.

His face turned toward me sharply as the breath caught in my throat- as though he had heard my gasp. In that moment when Edward's fearsome gaze was torn away from my would-be attacker, Creepy Guy disappeared.

I saw him tense into an almost crouch as though he were preparing to sprint away, and then he was gone. Edward's neck snapped back, his attention refocused on the direction in which Creepy Guy had vanished, but Dr. Cullen grabbed his arm and pulled him slightly in my direction.

The next moments were even more confusing than the previous had been because the sequence of events that I had just lived through began to catch up with me all at once.

The doctor leaned over me and peered into my eyes. He removed his sweater and bundled me into it. I wondered where his coat was. I wondered where his wife's coat was. I wondered how he wasn't shivering. I looked at Edward, suddenly worried about his anemia and the probability that hypothermia would kill him at any second.

Edward was kneeling before me. His fingertips planted in the sand in front of him. His eyes were darker than I had ever seen them, and they expressed so many different emotions at once that I could barely pin one down before another stuggled to the forefront. He was anxious, angry, weary, worried, fearful, focussed, distant, distracted, exhausted and exultant.

My throat and chest were burning and stinging and rasping. I wanted to curl up and let exhaustion take me. My ears hurt. My sinuses hurt. My entire body ached. I wanted to be unconscious so I couldn't feel it. But I was afraid to be unconscious because I didn't want to take my eyes off of Edward.

He reached a hand toward me, and my body flinched away from him. My instincts were sending alarm signals, and before I knew what I was doing, a stuttering gasp climbed up out of my throat, feezing Edward in mid-movement.

"What the hell are you?" I demanded.

"Bella?"

I scooted away from his outstretched hand, crawling backwards like a crab on the heels of my hands and feet. "Don't touch me. What the hell are you?"

I felt the doctor rise and move away from us, but my eyes never left Edward's. His gaze was intense. Wounded. I was sure that mine was equally intense. Accusing.

"Edward, you jumped off the cliff. You're not even hurt."

"Bella, we really need to get out of here."

"Go! I'm not stopping you."

"I'm not leaving without you."

"Don't touch me."

He looked like I had stabbed him. I wondered if he could feel pain. My own head was swimming with it. Terror was ripping through my body. Too late. I should have been terrified a little while ago. Too late. The danger was gone. Too late. My reactions were all wrong. But my reactions were all I had.

Edward was closing the distance between us in a slow, even movement. I couldn't see him moving at all, but I could tell that with each breath I took he was imperceptibly closer to me. I tried to breathe in through my nose, to smell him, but my nostrils didn't work. I sniffed petulatnly, and my left ear popped. I felt a warm trickle of draining water escape from the ear canal, and I shivered.

"Don't come any closer."

"I'm not going to hurt you. You know that."

"Tell me what just happened."

"Let me take you someplace safe and I will tell you everything you want to know."

"Safe?"

"I promise, Bella."

"How can you promise that when everyone I know is disappearing?"

"I promise not to let it happen to you." He was reaching to me. "You trust me, Bella. I know you do."

Yes. I did trust him. I knew I shouldn't. I knew that he had lied and stalked and covered-up, but I also knew he didn't do those things to hurt me. Too late to be scared. I finally began to shiver; it felt like my skin would shake right off of my cold bones.

His arms wrapped around the doctor's damp sweater and he lifted me off the ground. The sudden movement made my ears ring. When I inhaled with my face so close to Edward's skin, I could taste him on the air. Not even the briney, sandy sludge that coated my cold lips could mask the Edward flavor in the air. Breathing him relaxed me. I let my head fall against his shoulder. He was running, and the world blurred. I closed my eyes, and the cold air threatened to take me away from him, so I clung to the remnants of his shirt.

"What are you?" I whispered at him as my fingernails broke against his skin. That wasn't right. My cheekbone bounced against his shoulder. It would leave a bruise. Not right. "I was so stupid," I murmured.

"Shh." He could have soothed me with that syllable, but there was no conviction behind it, so I kept my eyes closed tight and tried to dig my fingernails into him. It hurt. I felt the exhaustion that came to replace the adrenaline sweep through me. I would pass out in his arms while he ran at an inhaman pace with his inhumanly strong arms around me. I would pass out and then he would probably eat me for dinner.

I woke up in a strange room.

The first thing I was aware of was that I was warm and dry. And comfortable. The bed was softer than my bed at home, and much softer than a hospital bed. It was like a bed from a movie: fluffy and white and soft and warm and big.

A large window let moonlight stream into the room and onto my face. It was late. I sat up with a start. "Dinner!"

"Are you hungry?"

Who said that? I looked around the room frantically. I was supposed to make lasagne, but I wasn't at Billy's house, and someone somewhere was probably wondering about me. Maybe even worrying about me.

"No," but I wasn't hungry. Just scared. My eyes tried to cut through the darkness of the room to focus on the source of the hushed voice, but the moonlight shining into my eyes blinded me to everything beyond the reach of it's gentle illumintation.

A figure slowly materialized at the side of the bed, gliding toward me until it glowed like a ghost in front of the window.

Mrs. Cullen looked like an angel. Her hair was lighter than her brother's; it lacked the intense metallic fire that his had. It was the color of burnt sugar or weak coffee and honey. "Bella, sweetheart, you're alright."

"I'm thirsty." My throat felt like it had been ravaged by and army of fire ants.

She stepped closer and removed a drinking glass from atop the caraffe of water at my bedside. She poured out some water and lifted the glass to my lips while slipping her free hand behind my back to lift me up.

I sipped and then gasped. "You're cold." I looked into her shadowed face. "Like him."

She looked sad. She looked weary and sad and beautiful. "I'll go and get Edward to talk to you. He stayed until just now." She let me lean back against the pillows and I pulled the soft feather duvet up around my face. My hands smoothed over the warm pajamas that covered my skin. I was so comfortable that I easily could have forgotten the ordeal and the soreness and the headache.

I let my eyes close until I felt a cold touch on my hand. I looked up to see Edward's eyes gazing into mine. They were light again, like honey in the moonlight. I clutched at his fingertips. They were cold as ice and hard as stone. "Why didn't I notice it before?"

He looked down at our intertwined fingers. "I wanted you to notice. I wanted you to feel it and run from me and never look back, but until you did that I couldn't turn my back on you." His voice was low and melodic and sincere. I breathed him in. His scent seemed to dull the sharp stabbing in my head. I pulled his hand toward my face and I inhaled with his knuckles against my mouth. I looked up from his hand to see that his eyes were closed, as though the feel of my lips against his skin was as good to him as it was to me.

"Edward?"

"Bella, are you sure you want to know all of this? It's not too late for you to deny everything and move on with your normal life. Forget this. Forget us." His eyes were pleading. But were they asking me to go or to stay? I really couldn't tell.

"You want me." I could feel my pulse in my fingertips where his hand gripped me a little too tightly.

"I really do, Bella." His lips parted hungrily. "More than you can imagine."

"Tell me what you are, Edward."

Silence.

Stillness.

Patience.

He sighed.

He slowly lifted my hand to his face and inhaled the scent of my skin as I had just done with his. "I want you more than you can imagine, Bella. You smell like heaven and hell." His toungue crept out from between his lips and crawled across the skin on my wrist. Edward's eyes closed lazily and a low rumble escaped from his throat. "I've dreamt of tasting you a million times, Bella." He lifted his shining eyes to mine again. "I've never wanted to kill someone like I want to kill you." He pressed his cold lips softly against the pulse that thudded at my wrist. "I've never wanted to love someone like I want to love you."

My head was swimming from the scent of him. His presence and his intensity were hypnotizing me. I sat paralized while my heart rate sped erratically and my ears thudded and my senses threatened to leave me. I was passing out.

I woke again with a cold grey sky spitting at the window by the bed. My fingers were numb with cold. I looked down to see long beautiful white fingers clasped around my hand. I started at the realization that Edward had stayed with me all night. He felt me jump and ran his other fingertips luxuriously through my tangled hair, pulling only slightly. I felt my heart thrum again. Would I just keep passing out?

I fought against it, turning my head toward his face. He actually smiled at me. "Good morning, Bella."

What was I supposed to say? The last thing I remembered was his pronouncement that he would kill me. But I felt so safe in his arms. I had slept happily. I felt happy. So I smiled, "Good morning."

I tried to disentangle myself from him and sit up. I seriously needed to pee and brush my teeth and drink a gallon of water, but his hand pulled me against his chest when I tried to raise my body from the bed. I looked up at his face in surprise, and I was troubled by the frown across his beautiful brow, "Where are you going?"

Again, what was I supposed to say? I felt my face turn a violent red, and Edward's cool fingers brushed across my hot cheek, "Bathroom?" I answered.

He released me and pointed to a door at the far side of the room. I felt his intense gaze cling to me as I dragged my weary body unsteadily toward my destination. What did he see in me?

There was a toothbrush there for me with a big fluffy towel. I thought I would want a shower, but when I ran my fingers through my tangled hair, I noticed it was clean and soft. I was mortified that someone had bathed me while I was unconscious. I hoped it was Mrs. Cullen.

The pajamas I wore were flannel and soft blue with large buttons up the front. They were comfortable and pretty and completely modest, for which I was thankful. I rolled the sleeves up to wash my face and was tugging them back down again as I re-entered the room where I had slept.

Morning was attmpting to break through the clouds, but there were more raindrops than sunbeans hitting the large window. Edward was still lounging in the bed: gaunt, louche, relaxed, swarthy, beautiful. He smiled at me, and it was an inviting smile. It was a smile that a spider would shine upon a fly. It trapped me, and it pulled me in, and Edward spun his arms around me as I crawled up his web. "Are you going to kill me today?" I meant to sound confident and light-hearted- teasing- but I actually meant the question more than a little, and my worry was apparent in my voice.

"Not today, no." He kissed my eybrow. "I'll get you some breakfast."

Instead of letting him do that I leaned against him. His body was solid and frozen. "What are you, Edward?"

His arms tightened around me. "Are you afraid of me?"

"A little."

"You should be more than a little afraid."

"Why? You know I trust you." He had said as much yesterday.

He sighed. "I wish you didn't."

"That's such a lie. You're releived and grateful and happy that I'm not afraid of you."

"You see right through me."

"You promissed you'd tell me everything."

He sighed. The scent of his breath washed over me, and I fought against the familiar dizziness. The prolonged exposure to the scent of his flesh, such as it was, had softened the effect it had upon me to some extent, but I still felt a giddiness each time I inhaled, and it was only magnified when I breathed his own breath. I thought about our kiss and my mouth watered a little.

"I'm the same kind of monster as James," he breathed his words very low into my ear as though confessing a shameful sin.

"Who's James?" My own voice was soft and calm. I thought I sounded rather like a new mother: tired and full of wonder at her own life and power.

"James is the beast who tried to kill you yesterday. The same one who destroyed William and Jasper."

I knew this. I had known it, but hearing it made my chest hurt and begin to heave. "And Rob. And Kris. And the old Davies man. And the others."

"Jasper killed Rob and Kris, Bella."

Those words hung in the air around us. They just hung there, floating, threatening to fall, threatening to crash down around us, threatening to bash my skull in. But they hung suspended, and I didn't let them touch me. Edward's hands were sweeping over my arms, up and down, up and down: soothing, distracting. The words wanted to pummel me. "Jazz?" The words wanted in my head.

"I'm sorry, Bella."


	22. Chapter 22

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Twenty-Two: Breakfast In Bed

Edward wasn't making sense. I didn't understand the words that had just flown from his lips at me. Jazz would never hurt anyone. Jazz wasn't capable of hurting his friends. Jazz wasn't capable of the brutality of the crime that had been committed on our friends.

My face must have reflected the conflict going on in my mind as I tried to reconcile Edward's words with my own understanding of the world in which I lived. Little did I know how much and how quickly my world was actually changing. Things had been slowly evolving in front of me and around me for the past several weeks, but on that morning, as I sat with Edward, there was a drastic shift that changed the Truth of my existence. I was dizzy from the movement as the axis of my earth was repositioned. Edward handed me a phone.

I looked down at the screen which indicated it was dialing out. The name on the display was Alice.

I looked up at Edward, questioning him with my eyes, and he ran his fingertips through my hair again while keeping his expression the same. His eyes were not blank but guarded, as though he expected the implosion that was soon to begin.

I put the phone against my ear.

"Bella? Bella is that you?"

The voice almost belonged to Alice. It was a good approximation. An excellent impression of the tone she could achieve when she was excited. I felt my heart rate pick up again. Edward kept up the soft drag of his elegant fingers over my scalp.

"Bella? It's me. Say something."

"Who is this?"

There was a long pause. "It's Alice."

I laughed. I didn't mean to, but what else could I do? I just laughed. This was a bad joke that didn't deserve a positive reaction from me, but I couldn't help myself.

Edward took the phone from my hand. "Where are you now?" he asked. He moved slowly, rising from the bed, pulling at my elbow to make me stand with him. I was curious and puzzled, willing to be led by him and wanting to know the punch line.

He walked me over to the enormous window and stood me in front of it facing out toward the sloping yard, bordered on all sides by lush gardens.

Mrs. Cullen was out there in the pissing drizzle with a sun hat on. She was pulling up weeds from the earth around her rose bushes. She wasn't even wearing gardening gloves. In the middle of the yard another young woman stood, not really accompanying Mrs. Cullen, but standing in her presence, keeping just close enough that they could be conversing easily. She looked familiar to me, but more beautiful than anyone I knew. His dark hair was swept in a thousand directions and it glittered with rain drops. She looked up at me, meeting my eyes, and I gasped because her eyes were a fiery red like James' eyes had been.

The woman had a phone against her ear. She looked at me and spoke into it. I heard a voice call my name from the phone that I had forgotten in my hand. "Bella?"

I didn't lift the phone to my ear, so the voice was far away. The sound was synchronized to the lips on the beautiful, frightening woman outside.

It was Alice, of course. I knew that it was her. But also it wasn't her. I couldn't associate the conflicting images in my head. She stood there, looking older than she had before. More svelte and fit and beautiful. But also looking timeless and sweet. She was a child and a woman occupying one body.

"Bella, it's me. Alice. I know you can see me."

I nodded my head. My arm still would not lift the phone. I felt my legs shaking, and then Edward's hand against the small of my back comforted me.

"She's a monster too?"

"She wants to talk to you, Bella." Edward's voice was soft and soothing. Calming and tranquilizing.

I began to walk toward the door when his hand grabbed my elbow. "Not outside. Talk to her on the phone."

I looked down at the phone in my hand, bewildered. I raised it slowly to my face, watching Edward's eyes. He nodded reassuringly. "Alice?"

"Yes! Bella! It's me!" Her voice was too beautiful to be real. She sounded like a waterfall with Alice's vocal inflection. She sounded like flower petals whispering against each other.

"Alice?" I was beginning to shake as my Truth was shattered into smaller and smaller bits. I sat myself on the edge of the bed with my eyes glued on my friend: the monster in the yard.

"Bella, try to understand."

"Okay." I would try. I looked at her and she smiled at me. It was a smile that brightened the grey sky. Mrs. Cullen was watching her.

"I don't know how much you know. This is all my fault. I'm so sorry."

I didn't have a clue what she was talking about, so I couldn't even nod to reassure her. I sat there, looking, waiting.

She continued, "I've wanted to tell you, but everything is dangerous. But I'm so lucky to have Carlisle and Esme and Edward. They've taken the best care of me."

"What is this? Like Stockholm Syndrome or something? They've just been keeping you here?" I was trying to make this make sense. To force what I was looking at into the mold of reality that had always lived in my head. The molds were cracking.

"Bella, William was a vampire."

She waited, as though everything would crystallize in my head, becoming clear and sensible with that pronouncement. I felt Edward tense beside me. I felt him watching my face.

"Vampire?" I don't know what I was expecting them to be called. I liked monster better because it was generic. Vampire was a specific kind of monster, dark, evil, deadly. I looked at Alice's radiant face, and I couldn't believe she was deadly. I looked at her terrible eyes, and I began to let the new Truth in. "You're a vampire?"

"Yes, Bella."

"I don't understand. Where's William now?"

Alice was encouraged by my question, and she launched into the story, all the while looking up at me with her angelic face and her gruesome eyes. "James killed him. William sacrificed himself to save me- to buy me time. James has been chasing us my whole life, but I never knew it. That was why William moved here to be near Carlisle's family, safety in numbers. James killed my parents."

I wasn't really following the story. I closed my eyes. "Hold on a minute," I said. I scooted back on the bed so I wouldn't have to hold myself up. I took a drink of water, and I gazed at Edward's face. Somehow he could hear every word Alice said. "Okay, Alice. So, James is a vampire who killed your family. Then William took you in to protect you?" I wanted to keep it simple and straight so I could re-align my understanding of the world and its new face.

"Yes. William had a special sixth sense. He could see Destiny. He met James in Costa Rica twenty years ago and saw that he would destroy my world. He knew it was wrong. He didn't like the murdering, and he never killed people. He was a good man."

"A good vampire?" I interrupted, looking at Edward. He remained impassive before me.

"As good as we can be. He sought me out, but I wasn't born yet. He found my parents and bought the house next door to them, waiting for James to strike." Her fine dark brow was furrowed as she recounted her own history. "I think that William led him to us. Because it was Destiny after all. There was no way to change it." If I were Alice I'd have cried at that thought, but she didn't cry. She sighed and watched my face through the window, always looking up at me.

"James showed up and killed my parents. My mother's blood- and to a lesser extent my blood -was extremely sweet to him. He only killed my father for being in the way. William took me and kept me safe forever, eventually getting in touch with Carlisle and establishing the powerful friendship in Forks. But James came anyway. He couldn't resist my blood."

Again I looked at Edward, wondering if what he had said about my blood was the same thing that Alice was talking about.

"When you had pneumonia, James found us. William tried to get me away. La Push is not a safe place for vampires, so William was trying to drive us as fast as possible through the reservation, hoping that if James followed the same route, he'd be stopped inside of La Push. But we never made it that far. James had a faster car and he caught us before we hit the reservation. William managed to ram James' car over the edge of the cliff, and then he bit me while James was climbing back up. He bit me so that James wouldn't kill me. Once I was poisoned by William's venom, I'd no longer be worthwhile prey to James. I was mostly unconscious because of the battering I took from the car wreck that William had put us through in order to get rid of James for a few moments. I was bleeding and broken and weak, so William's venom took me quickly. I saw James climb up onto the road again, drenched and angry. I heard William say goodbye to me before turning to fight James. I woke up later with Carlisle, and I knew William hadn't survived the fight. I also knew I was different." She paused finally, and the silence was heavy.

"A monster."

"Yes, but also my senses were all different. Like William's in a way."

I felt exhausted from suspending my disbelief and trying to understand her story. I no longer understood her. I didn't know what she meant by venom and changing and senses. I realized that I was clutching Edward's hand. I wanted him closer to me. He was the one touchstone that made me feel alive. Even though I knew he was a monster, I also knew that he made me feel better than I had ever felt in my life, and I couldn't believe that was bad.

"I can see futures."

"Futures," I murmured. I was getting lost in Edward's scent. I was letting myself get lost in him. He was comfort. He was peace. He was safety. I felt my fingers relaxing, the phone slipping away from my face.

I watched Edward take the phone from me. "Alice I think she's a bit overwhelmed. Let me talk to her. You can catch up more later."

I didn't hear Alice's response, but Edward put the phone down on the bed, and I leaned forward against his chest. His arms wrapped around me. "You're still not frightened?"

"Not of you, Edward."

He shook his head, dismayed at my reaction. "What makes you frightened, Bella?"

I shifted myself against him so I could relax. He cradled me in his arms and I sighed in perfect tranquility. Every breath I took was saturated with him, and I felt that familiar giddy warmth bubbling through me.

"I'm frightened of spiders. And those little milled soaps shaped like animals. And leftovers that have been in the fridge too long. And gummy bears..." I paused because Edward was laughing, and it was the single most beautiful sound I had ever heard. The low rumble of it filled my ear that rested against his chest, and I smiled up at his face. His eyes looked happy, and he squeezed me tighter against him.

"You're utterly absurd. You know that, right?" He touched my nose as he gazed into my eyes. He looked like he loved me.

I reached up to press the palm of my hand against his perfect face. "Was that really Alice?"

"You know it's her."

"And she's dead?"

"She's not alive."

"Neither are you?"

"I feel alive when you're touching me."

"How long has Alice been here?" I searched the depths of his honey colored eyes as I waited for his answer.

"Since the night you saw Carlisle rolling her to the morgue."

"You blame yourself for this somehow, don't you?"

He sighed and took my hand away from his face. I fought to release my fingers from his, and I lifted my hand again, tracing his beautiful lips with my fingertips.

"If I hadn't left Forks, I could have helped. Alice would still be alive. None of this would have ever started."

"Why were you gone? Where did you go?"

Edward looked into my eyes and leaned closer to me. "When you're touching me like that, I can hardly think, Bella. I only want to kiss you again like that night outside your house."

"You should just kiss me, then. Instead of telling me about it."

He leaned closer; his breath was so sweet as he spoke. "You can't possibly still want me now that you know the truth."

"I can. I do." I was straining my neck, reaching up for him because he held his face just out of my reach. It was a lot like that night when I so desperately wanted to kiss him before. I remembered that saying please had gotten him to give in to me then, and I was ready to wield that weapon against him again.

But I didn't need to. He kissed me. He pressed his stone mouth upon mine and his lips moved against mine and his breath mingled with mine, and I felt heaven swallowing me. My fingers clutched at his soft hair while he manoeuvered my body to an angle that better suited his reach. I felt his cold tongue knock lightly against my teeth, and I shivered from ecstasy and cold. His hands were everywhere on my body, and I cursed the long-sleeved flannel pajamas. He grabbed at my back and my waist and my legs and my shoulders. He held me and pulled at me and I heard myself whimper in desperation as I bit at his mouth and tried to find a way to be closer to him. I needed more contact, more touch, more fire. I was burning from the cold of his embrace, and I knew I must feel like a furnace to him. He clutched at me, feeding on the warmth. I tried to move to straddle him, and he lifted me effortlessly like a rag doll without removing his mouth from mine, placing me astride his legs and crushing my torso against his. The kiss was killing me. I was losing consciousness, and I didn't want to, so I bit at him, harder, causing myself a sharp pain, shocking my senses into momentary alertness. He leaned me back upon the fluffy mattress and pressed me flat beneath him. I wanted to keep my legs clutched around him, but my muscles were losing their integrity, becoming limp and useless. I was a weak kitten in his capable embrace. My feeble fingers began to lose their grip on his neck. I tried to clutch at the collar of his shirt to keep the contact, but my arms grew weary from the effort as his anesthetic kisses washed through my mouth.

"Edward," I managed to breathe as blackness began to gather behind my eyes, "I don't want to pass out."

He seemed to understand, and he seemed to fight with himself to pull away from my mouth. His lips found my jaw instead. I took deep breaths. My lips and tongue tingled dramatically. It was like having touched a battery to my tongue. The residual afterglow from the violent spark left a painful numbness.

"Bella," he breathed against my throat, "I'm never going to be able to give you up."

I mustered the strength to throw my arms back around his neck. I was regaining my purchase on consciousness.

"I can't ever have enough of you, Edward." The words just tumbled out of my mouth. They were completely true, even if they sounded strange. I wanted more.

A strange ringing began to fill my ears as Edward licked my neck. I tangled my fingers in his hair and tried to tug his face away, too overwhelmed by the sensation of his tongue to survive it. It was too much.

Edward groaned and pulled his body off of mine. I was about to protest when he grabbed at the phone that had been abandoned after my conversation with Alice. I realized that the ringing had been the device and not my tenuous grip on my senses.

"Alice?" he answered.

There was a pause in which I could make out the soft tones of her voice without understanding the words.

"I wasn't going to." He tossed the phone against the mattress with more force than necessary, causing it to bounce and flop twice before settling.

"You weren't going to what?" I asked him, looking into his deep black eyes. I was shocked at the color, so menacing compared to the shimmering gold they had been a short time before.

His hair was disheveled in the extreme, clearly illustrating the passionate embrace he had just disengaged himself from. "Devour you." His voice was a low growl. He looked like he COULD devour me, and I felt more than ready for it in that moment. He ran his hands across his face in a cleansing motion and then groaned. "Your scent is all over me."

"Is that bad?" I sniffed at my own fingertips, smiling at the beautiful spice that lingered there.

"It's bad for my self-control, but I don't want to trade it for any other scent." He gazed at me. Under the intensity of his stare I felt naked, exposed, transparent. "Distract me, Bella."

I reached out to him, but he grabbed my hand out of the air and placed it firmly at my side. "Not like that."

I realized that he wanted a tamer distraction, so I fought with my addled brain to come up with something to say. "Will you tell me the rest of the story?" I asked him, my voice quiet and thick from the passion that still pulsed through me.

He sighed and moved to sit by me again, only stopping mid-movement when his eye caught the clock on the bedside table. "You must be hungry, Bella."

I was hungry. I was ravenous. But I didn't want to leave his embrace. Not for food or water or life. "I'll eat after you tell me." I just wanted a little more time in his arms. I was feeling greedy.

He saw right through me and smiled and gave in to me, pulling me against him. But then he picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Esme, Bella needs breakfast in bed." I shook my head frantically at him. I was mortified to be waited on. He only smiled at me and leaned in to place a kiss on my forehead. "I'm sure that will be fine." He hung up the phone and laughed at me as I huffed.

"Not cool, Edward. What is your sister thinking of me now?"

"First of all, that was actually very cool of me. Secondly, Esme is more of a mother figure to me than a sister. Thirdly, she adores you and she LIVES for hostessing." He planted another kiss on my eyebrow. "And you can imagine how infrequently she gets the opportunity to hostess."

"I can imagine it's tough to get people to come over when you're always eating the house guests."

Edward exploded in laughter. It actually shook him until he fell over on the bed. His eyes were amazingly beautiful when he laughed; they crinkled up at the edges and seemed to grow lighter. I was saddened for a moment when the thought crossed my mind that Edward doesn't laugh enough.

"People aren't on the menu here, my love." Did he just call me his love? "And where did you want me to pick up with the story?"

I got lost in his piercing eyes for a few moments, until he reached a hand toward me and touched my nose, "Bella?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you want to know?" His face was serious, searching mine.

I thought for a moment before answering. "Where were you when James found William and Alice?"

"Alaska."

"Why? You had just started school at Forks High, hadn't you?"

"Yes. I was running away, Bella."

"From what?"

"From you," he paused for a moment then amended, "No. From me. From myself. From the monster inside me."

"Explain please."

He sighed, "Something had been plaguing me from time to time for the past year or so. I'd catch a hint of a scent on Carlisle's coat some evenings. Not frequently. But occasionally. And every time it was like a grenade exploding in my face." I watched his eyes as they danced through his memory. "Overwhelming. Incredible. Tempting. And then one time when I was hunting with William, he told me about you."

"About me?"

Edwards's eyes rested for a moment on my mouth and he leaned in to steal a kiss. "You," he answered. "He had met you some time before and seen your Destiny."

"How does that work?"

"I'm not really sure, but I was able to see his visions thousands of times when he shared them with me. They played out like movies in his mind" He ignored the question on my face and continued, "And that evening he showed me you. You and me. It was hazy but beautiful. You held me in your arms and loved me, and we were happy. You were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and you held me. It was the most amazing thing I had ever witnessed."

"I'm your destiny?"

"Well, from the vision he showed me, I'm yours. But yes. We are too intertwined for semantics."

I couldn't help but smile. Even if this were a fairy tale, I had Edward's arms around me, and he thought I was beautiful. Though why he would say so when he and his family were all inhumanly breathtaking was a puzzle. His opinion of me would have to be investigated later.

"You're mine." I liked the sound of that an awful lot.

And so did he if the effulgence that erupted around him was an indication. He shone at me, and I drank his glory in with my eyes. The soft curl of his lips beckoned me, but he shifted out of my reach again. "I'm still telling you the story."

I pouted a little and nodded at him to continue.

"Well, I admit that I was wary. Conflicted. I spent a great deal of time trying to make myself believe that William was wrong." My face must have looked wounded by this admission that he rejected me because he quickly stroked my cheekbone and backtracked. "No, Bella. Not because of you. Because of me. I didn't want you to be swept up in my world. I live in a horror movie. My life is all death and gore and pain, and I didn't want that for you. You're too good for this."

I had no words for him, so I stayed silent and concentrated on the cool touch of his fingertips. If I let myself be caught up in his touch, I could keep the hot tears from spilling out of my eyes. "Bella, it was so easy to fall in love with you immediately. I let myself be in love with you some days. I fought with myself about it on other days. And then, William knew James was coming and that he was insinuating himself into Alice's destiny more strongly than ever. And into the destinies of people close to her as well.

"Carlisle suggested that I go to the high school so I could keep an eye on Alice when William couldn't be around," he continued. "But that was a disaster from the beginning when I met Alice by her locker and I was bowled over by your scent."

"My locker was right by Alice's."

"Yes. Until then, I had never put two and two together. I guess I had been in denial. I knew that Alice carried the same alluring scent that I smelled on Carlisle sometimes, but I really didn't want it to be you. Stupid of me."

At this point, a light knock on the door interrupted the story. Esme Cullen entered the room with a tray balanced on her delicate hand. I immediately felt a blush slap me across the face, and I moved to extricate my limbs from Edward's, but he held me tight. He was completely unashamed by our intimate embrace. I resigned myself to stop fighting him after a moment because he was ridiculously strong, and I had the impenetrable armor of flannel pajamas on anyway, so nothing indecent could be construed from our entanglement.

Esme sat the tray across my lap and murmured a soft greeting to me. I smiled, and she turned to go, pausing by the door to say, "Edward, Alice wants to see Bella. I think it would be okay."

To my infinite surprise and horror, his response was a feral growl. It made me jump and almost knock my cocoa onto the bed. Esme gave him a disapproving look as she walked out the door.

"What the hell was that, Edward?" He was already rubbing circles on my back, contrite for having startled me.

"Sorry, Bella. It isn't safe yet."

"Why not? Alice and I are friends." I liked the idea of getting my friend back, even if she was infinitely more beautiful now than before.

"I'm getting to it. Let me continue the story. You eat." He gestured at the waffle covered in fresh fruit that sat across my lap. It smelled heavenly, so I began cutting squares and spearing berries with my fork.

"Where was I?" he bit his lips for a moment as he thought, and I felt my pulse begin to thud dangerously hard under my skin as I watched his teeth press into his flesh. "Oh, yes, I realized that the blood I had been lusting after and the girl I had been lusting after were the same person. And I panicked."

"Panicked?"

"I was terrified at the thought of meeting you and being overpowered by your scent and killing you instantly."

"But wouldn't William have shown you a much less warm and fuzzy destiny if that were the case?"

"The panic part of my story was meant to imply that I may not have been looking at the situation logically, Bella." He sighed. "I spent a day getting myself more and more worked up about the situation, and finally I decided I had to leave, so I stopped at the hospital to talk to Carlisle about the situation, and I was drawn to you. You were there. Just two corridors from Carlisle's office. I couldn't stop myself from entering your room. I remember opening the door, full of dread and hating myself. I remember the sound of your heartbeat and your raspy breaths. I closed myself in with you for a moment, holding my breath the whole time, just so I could look at you as you slept. I nearly died from the force of your beauty."

I felt myself blush right to my fingertips when he said that. "I was sick as a dog, Edward," I mumbled.

"You were the most incredible thing my eyes had ever been blessed to behold. I gasped when I saw you, and that nearly undid me. If you were any less beautiful to me, I might not have been paralyzed. But as it turned out, I couldn't attack you- as much as my body screamed for it. I was locked in place by the translucent glow of your pale skin in the mellow light that emanated from the machinery around your bed."

At this point, I had forgotten to take a bite for the last several moments, and Edward placed a strawberry from my plate against my mouth, parting his own lips slightly as he watched me take the fruit between my teeth. I felt him breathing slightly harder.

"You're a poet," I meant it to sound a bit accusing because he was weaving a description of me that I didn't deserve, but I was honestly so overwhelmed by him that my words carried no force at all.

"Maybe. I left, though. I don't know how I found the strength to leave you after being in the same room with you, but I escaped. I'd kill myself before I'd ever hurt you, Bella." His eyes were intense and sincere and frightening.

"God, Edward. Don't say that. Don't ever think that!" The thought of Edward dead was paralyzing me. Surely my eyes expressed the panic that this thought was germinating because he once again began to try to soothe me with gentle caresses.

"I want you to understand me, Bella. I will never hurt you." I could only nod at him. My breakfast was forgotten.

"Well, Esme got hold of me later in the week, but by then William was dead and Alice was changed and I would have to live with the guilt of letting my family down. Carlisle was justifiably furious with me. It was supposed to be my job to watch over Alice, but I abandoned her, and Carlisle lost one of his oldest friends."

"He's known William for a long time?"

"Two hundred and fifty years, maybe."

It took a moment for those words to sink in. Two and a half centuries. My mouth was gaping open as I tried to grasp the meaning of such a long amount of time. I grabbed the cup of hot chocolate with shaking hands and brought it to my mouth to try to hide the shocked expression that I knew Edward had already noted.

"How long have you known Carlisle, Edward?"

"Only eighty years or so."

I audibly gasped at this piece of information. Only eighty years. I stared up at Edward's beautiful young face trying to believe him. Eighty years.

"Are you sure you want me to keep going with the story?"

I nodded mutely at him, gripping the warm mug with both hands.

"Well, then I began to work on getting over you so that I could at least protect you. After letting Alice and William and Carlisle down, keeping you safe was the least I could do."

"You got over me?" The words hurt. They hurt to hear and hurt to say.

"Bella," He placed a cool fingertip beneath my chin and pulled my gaze up to meet his, "does it look like I succeeded?"

I couldn't answer him, so he wisely continued his story to distract me from my wallowing. "Well, the more time I spent near you, the further I fell. I began climbing into your bedroom window at night just to see you and breathe you and sometimes touch your eyelids as you slept." My face went hot again and Edward leaned in to kiss my face. "I love that blush, Bella."

"Keep going with your story."

He chuckled softly at my petulance, "Well, there isn't much more to it. Alice has been here with us. A newborn vampire is incredibly strong and often very wild, so we've had to keep a close eye on her all the time."

"Stronger than you?"

"Most definitely."

"Little Alice?"

"She makes up for the size. Trust me. She broke away from us a few times. Once, you nearly saw her when she stole into her house to get clothes. I had to tackle her in the hydrangeas, and it took all three of us to get her home just before the police arrived. I scampered back to the crime scene to do damage control if needed, but luckily the situation remained a mystery."

"You scampered?"

"Hush. Then, there was a time when I know you saw her outside your window."

"I thought it was a ghost."

"You believe in ghosts, Bella?"

"No. Not really. But I didn't have a better explanation."

"Are you finished with the waffle?"

"Yes. It was really good."

"Don't be too gracious. It was frozen. Vampires aren't good cooks, I'm afraid."

"It was really good. The fruit was amazing."

"Fresh fruit is easy." He took the tray off of my lap and set it on the floor beside him. I reached for the carafe of water by the bedside, but he pulled it out of my shaking hands before I could pour it all over myself. He handed me a glass of water, which I grateful accepted. My throat felt a million times better than it had the day before, but I was still incredibly parched from drowning.

He seemed to get lost staring at my mouth for a moment as I held the glass to my lips. I smiled at him, and he smiled back. I was happy.

"So now, James is still taking his issues out on Alice." Edward threw this at me out of the blue, and it took me a moment to place this factoid into the story.

"All the murders in Forks are because of James?"

"He's trying to draw her out. Make her kill. Turn her into the kind of monster he is. He knows he can't get near here because we outnumber him. We're too strong. But he's a sick bastard. He wants Alice. He wants to make a killer and a lover out of her. His greatest weapon is Jasper."

"Oh god."

"He's got Jasper on a tight leash, in a manner of speaking. We haven't been able to get to him. And every day he gets a little more manageable for James. Every time he kills, he's gets a little farther out of our reach. The two of them have killed over a dozen people in the last few weeks. Sooner or later, it's going to come down to a fight, and we might not be able to save Jasper."

"Holy hell." I didn't know what else to say. Edward frowned at me. I was turning this situation over and over in my head. Jasper was a vampire. He was killing people. He was working with James, who was Alice's enemy. "So James wants to get to Alice through Jasper. Because he knows she loves him."

"Yeah. Exactly."

"But," something occurred to me, "he doesn't know that Jasper loves Alice, does he?"

Edward stared into my eyes. I could see he was thinking, catching up to the key point that might disarm James' weapon.

"No. He definitely doesn't know that," Edward agreed.


	23. Chapter 23

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Twenty-Three: Bloodhound

Edward's body snapped up suddenly, jostling me from where I slept. His chest made a terrible pillow, but I wouldn't have traded it for the softest cushion of feathers on earth. "Damn it!" He peered out the window into the empty forestscape wreathed in annoyingly bright white midday clouds. I followed his intent gaze and saw nothing to warrant his reaction.

"What is it?"

Ignoring me, he picked up the phone. "Alice, you need to get low. Company's coming." His brow crinkled as she spoke to him. "What do you mean you don't see anything? I can see the cruiser coming up the drive... Yeah. And one of those damn dogs." Edward scowled. I peered out the window. If a cruiser was coming, was it Charlie? Forks Police didn't have a K-9 unit, so I couldn't guess what he meant about the dog. "Hunh," he said. And then, "Just secure yourself. This is going to be interesting. Right now he's just going on a hunch, but he'll smell her as soon as he gets out of the car."

With that, he dropped the phone on the bed again and sprang to his feet in one lithe movement. Edward leaned in to kiss my forehead. "You sit tight, Bella. Not a sound."

"Why? What's going on?" I looked out the window again and could make out snatches of white through the trees where a car must have been driving along a winding road toward the secluded house.

Edward sighed and peered at me. He seemed to be making a decision about how much to tell me, and then he spoke. "Your father is coming here to look for you. I want you to stay here and keep quiet."

"Why?" I was alarmed at this. "Keep quiet? Am I a hostage? What's this about?"

"Bella, if you think I'm letting you out of this house while James is still out there, then you haven't been listening to anything I've told you."

Realy? He was going to let Charlie think I was another victim? Didn't he realize that my dad would only put himself more at risk? "But what are you planning to tell Charlie?"

"Calm down." He tried to soothe me by brushing his fingertips across my cheek, but I was beyond being soothed right then, and I slapped his hand away. That hurt! "I'll try to throw him off, Bella. I can't let Charlie take you home now. But if we have to let him think you're missing, then so be it. I'm not letting you leave here until I know you'll be safe."

"What the hell do you mean you're not LETTING me? You can't keep me here against my will!" I saw a larger glimpse of white as the car curved through the trees in the near distance, closing in on the house.

Edward stood, overshadowing me with his bulk and staring me down with his dark, determined eyes. "Isabella, if I have to incapacitate you I will." His voice was low and venomous. His eyes cut into me, and he was truly frightening. I shrunk back from him a few inches. He didn't blink at all, and his intense stare was powerful.

"But Charlie..."

"NO!"

Edward's nostrils were flared, and his eyes were dangerous and his hands were coiled into tight, powerful looking fists at his sides. All I could do was nod. I held my breath and waited to see if he was going to hit me or kiss me. Given the look on his face it could have been either.

I was worried about what Charlie would do, what lengths he would go to to find me, what danger he would put himself in. I had to make Edward see, but I would just have to wait until he was feeling more reasonable to argue my point.

Edward leaned in, ignoring my flinch, kissed my head again and turned on his heel. He was out of the room before I could blink, and I heard the lock on the heavy door turn.

I sighed.

Charlie's cruiser was rolling up to the house, and I watched, waiting to see a bloodhound or German shepherd or some other big fearsome police dog that had been comanedeered from the county to help with the local man hunt. But Edward was wrong. There was no dog in the car with Charlie. There was... Jake?

Jacob climbed out of the passnger door before Charlie had even braked to a full stop. They both had fierce looks on their faces as they clambered up the steps of the porch. I scampered to the door, hoping to be able to hear whatever was going on down below, but I couldn't even hear so much as the rumble of voices.

After a few minutes of wasted effort, I returned to the bed. I sat on something cold and reached down to pull the phone out from under my leg. I held it between my palms. It was still cold from Edward's hands. I smiled.

Then I dialed.

"Bella?"

"Hey Alice, what's going on?"

She was silent a moment. "Your friend Jake told Charlie you were here, and now Esme is trying to make Jake look ridiculous by pointing out that you're not here and there's no reason why you would be here.."

"How did Jake know I was here?"

"I'm not sure." Her voice was hesitant. "Well, he had to know we were involved somehow."

"Why? How would Jake know?"

"Hold on, I'm trying to listen to the conversation going on up there."

I waited several moments in silence while my knee bounced in restless anxiousness below me. Eventually I couldn't sit quietly any longer. "Where are you?"

"In the cellar."

"Why?"

She sighed. "Didn't Edward tell you about the self-control issues that new vampires have?"

"Oh. Yeah. A bit." I sighed too. I really wanted to be able to hang with my friend, now that I virtually had her back from the dead.

"Edward's good at this," she commented after a few moments of silence. "I think he's winning your dad over."

"But why? Alice, if Charlie keeps looking for me, he's going to get in James' way sooner or later. I can't let that happen!"

"Calm down. As soon as Carlisle gets home, I'm sure the family will discuss tactics."

"Tactics?"

"James has been elusive, but now that everything he wants is in one place, Edward thinks we'll be able to force him to meet us."

"Meet? You want to _meet_ a psycho killer?"

"Have you noticed how fast and strong we are?"

I thought about that for a moment. "Alice, have you noticed that James is just as strong and fast and also completely insane and evil?"

Her voice became stern. "Look, Bella. He killed the four people I loved most in the world. This has to stop."

That shut me up. My heart felt tight and angry for her. Vengeance was a scary thing to contemplate. But this monster had killed her parents and her guardian and her Jazz.

Oh.

"But, Alice? What about Jazz? Edward said-" I could NOT finish that thought.

Silence.

"Alice?"

"I don't know," her voice sounded thick. "I can't believe this happened to him."

I wasn't sure what to say. I wanted to comfort her, to assure her that everything was really okay and that things would turn out alright and maybe, just maybe she and Jazz could have that Happily Ever After that she had always dreamed about. In fact, it would be a much longer Happily Ever After than anyone could have imagined just a few short months ago.

But how could I reassure her? What could I really say? If this situation came to a confrontation, who would survive? If Jazz really had killed Rob and Kris, would he end up going to jail? Was there a jail that could hold him? Like in Buffy, maybe the government had a secret facility for holding hostile demons?

Oh dear lord, I was going insane.

Before I could get completely out of control with my nonsensical musings, a flutter of movement caught my attention in the front yard. Esme was walking Charlie back to his cruiser.

"Bella?" Alice's voice was faint and I realized I had let the phone drop down from my ear as I gazed out the window. I put it back in place to answer her.

"Yeah?"

"Is Charlie outside now?"

"Yeah. With Esme."

"So Edward's alone in the house with Jake?"

"I guess so."

"Shit. I'm going up to back Edward up. If you see Charlie heading back to the house, holler at me. I'll keep the phone on speaker in my pocket, so keep quiet unless there's an emergency." I heard a scratching and shuffling noise that I assumed was the phone being pocketed, so I didn't have time to ask her why she thought Edward needed back-up or why she was going to let Jake see her or why she thought she could overcome her new-vampire-self-control-issues in the presence of my friend. I felt my heart pounding in my chest as anxiety heightened. So many things could go wrong any second now.

I listened intently to the muffled voices coming through the receiver, and I waited to hear Jake scream when he saw the ghost of my best friend.

But he didn't scream. I heard him talking to Edward. "Listen, leech, I'll be dogging you. All of you."

"Wonderful choice of words, Jake. I had no idea you had a sense of humor." Alice's voice still sounded beautiful, even with the sneer in her tone. I had no idea she didn't like Jake.

"At least YOU don't smell like her. With those eyes, I'd kill you where you stand if you did."

My eyes widened, wondering at Jake's words, and I half focussed on the scene playing out in the front yard. Charlie had a pained expression on his face. His head was shaking back and forth as he spoke. He looked as if he might cry.

Instead he wiped his knuckles across his stubbled cheek. Esme's hand reached up to stroke his shoulder comfortingly. I knew how light her touch would have to be in order to keep Charlie from jumping at her unexpected strength. She exuded comfort. Her maternal air was practically a visible aura surrounding her. Charlie's eyes seems to lighten subtly as he looked at her, but the dark circles there turned my stomach as I became aware of just how much he was clearly worrying about me.

"Enough with the threats!" Edward's voice was dark and full of authority. "We get it, Jacob. But let me remind you that you're still breathing right now because she'd be upset over your death, so enjoy your current good fortune and don't EVER darken this door again. I won't be generous toward you or ANY of your family if they come here."

"Ha!" I heard my erstwhile friend jeer at my paramour. "You think you could take me? You don't scare me, bloodsucker." Since when was Jake such a jerk? "Like I said, if I don't hear from her within the hour, I WILL BE BACK," he growled. "WITH my whole family. And if you think the four of you can keep us from taking her out of here, you're severely underestimating us." With that I heard the door slam.

Jake stalked dangerously across the grass, reaching the police car in four efficient strides. Esme broke away from Charlie's presence by the driver side door as Jake crammed his massive form through the passenger door. I could see Charlie mutter some salutation, and Esme raised her hand to wave him off as the cruiser reversed and managed a sloppy three-point turn and then disappeared.


	24. Chapter 24

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Twenty-Four: No Surrender, No Retreat

The phone went dead at my ear, which was frustrating, because I wanted to hear the conversation that would surely pass between Alice and Edward next.

I sat and tried to make sense of everything that had just happened.

The main thing that was bugging me was how Jake knew just where to look for me.

Then, why wasn't Jake freaked out that Alice was here? Even if he never met her in person, her face was plastered EVERYWHERE. Unless Jake was being totally unobservant, he had to-

He seemed to know about vampires.

He called Edward "leech" and "bloodsucker." Holy hell. How did Jacob Black know about vampires? And why didn't he ever tell me?

Ah. So he must have realized at some point that the murders in Forks were the work of vapires, and since he knows that Edward is a vampire...

Well, with the footprint evidence that Charlie had, it could be just a mtter of time before Edward was arrested. Shit. But, what would cuffs and a cell mean to him? Nothing. No jail could hold him, as far as I knew. Unless there was a secret government facility... Gah! Stop it. Stop it stop it!

So, it's feasible that Jake wasn't surprised about Alice because he knew all along that she had been vampified. Why the hell hadn't he told me? What a jerk!

And how dare he come to Edward's home and call him names! Vampire or not, that was just rude. Was this why Jake freaked so hard when I first told him that Edward was a friend of mine?

He had also threatened Edward. He mentioned not to underestimate him. What the hell kind of pissing conest was that? I stared down at the phone in my hand. If I called Jake's house, he wouldn't be there yet, and Billy would tell Charlie I called, and Charlie could get the phone records and see where I called from-

Wait, no this was a mobile number. But if he investigated, he'd find out who it was billed to, and with that evidence that I had thrown under Charlie's nose...

Ugh.

I dialed.

"Rose, it's me. Don't call me back; I just wanted to let you know I'm fine. It's complicated, but don't worry about me. Don't tell Charlie I got in touch with you. If you keep this to yourself I _promise_ to call again later with explanations. I just need to hide out a little longer. Love you!"

I closed the phone with my heart pounding, and I prayed that Rose wouldn't do anything stupid.

I sat very still for a few minutes, willing my heart to stop pounding like a a tommy gun being fired into a hoard of bootleggers. Breathe in. Breathe out. Calm down.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on the sound of my own breath.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt a soft wave of cool air drift across my mouth. Is it possible to get goosebumps on your face? I opened my eyes, and Edward was right there, staring at me with eyes full of some meaning that my feeble mind couldn't translate. He knelt before me, gazing into my eyes, almost as though he'd been gone for days rather than minutes. At first I allowed myself to get lost in his presence and his scent and his delicate touch as he let his fingertips drift over my skin like mist rolling over a hill. He leaned me back on the fluffy bed by the wide window in the spacious room and floated above me, staring into my eyes.

"What was that, Edward?" It was several minutes before I was able to collect myself and ask him that question, and it was several more before I prompted him again, "Edward?" My breathing was slow and deep. His nearness was lulling me into a state of complete tranquility that was almost entirely immobilizing. Edward was sliding closer to me, luring me deeper under his thrall with every breath I took. His tongue dragged itself lazily between his slightly parted lips, and I forgot my question entirely.

His lips were so close to mine when he spoke that I could taste him on the whisper of his words, "Do you have any idea what you do to me when you say my name?" His voice was almost too soft for me to hear, but I could feel the question tickling at my mouth, begging to be answered.

My own lips parted. "Edward," was all I said before his diabolical tongue insinuated itself into my mouth.

The afternoon floated away as I lay beneath Edward, and his mouth owned me, and his hands got to know me, and he seemed to memorize every rhythm that my heart was capable of beating, thrumming, spluttering, rapping, thumping, or fluttering. He taught my lungs some new endurance skills, and they ached a little when I gasped for breath, no doubt still a bit cranky from the recent drowning.

"Heaven."

Which of us murmured that word, I may never know. It was a whisper and a prayer and a moan and a song, all in two syllables.

Edward kept moving my limbs around like I was a rag doll, and he was the lucky kid who got me for Christmas. He moved my arms to my sides or onto his shoulders. He pulled my hands out of his hair, and later he put them back. He bent my legs at the knee, straightened them out, pulled them apart to accommodate him better, and shoved them back together as he shifted to one side of me. At one point, he was gliding his hands over mine, and he stopped the gentle undulation of his limbs all at once until the only thing moving on his entire body was his index finger. His lips were even still, and his eyelids fluttered open. His brow furrowed. I took the free hand that wasn't currently being molested by his dangerous fingers and traced the line of his brow gingerly. "Why are you frowning, Edward?"

At the sound of my voice, or perhaps at the sound of his name on my lips, his frown disappeared and he smiled at me. His smile was breathtaking and inviting. He STILL wasn't answering me.

"Is there something wrong with my hand?" I was careful not to say his name.

"You have a bruise, Bella." Ah. Now I understood. The way he caressed the syllables of my name with his delicious tongue made my overactive heart take off again. He packed so much suggestion into his voice and lips and tongue when he said my name that it would have been censored in the fifties.

"Bruise?" I was trying to pay attention. Honestly, I was.

He pulled my hand down between our two faces, which meant he was suddenly farther from my lips than he had been in quite a while, and I missed him. He looked down and pointed at the angry purple splotch between my knuckles and wrist.  
I peered at it. It looked a bit horrible. Edward's cold fingers were soothing, though. "How did you know I had a bruise just by touching me?"

His face lit up again in a smile that let me know he found my question adorable. I didn't want him thinking of me as a cute little puppy- sex kitten would be okay- so I took a page from his book and licked my lips. Instantly I saw his eyes refocus onto my mouth, and the smirk was gone. "It's hotter."

I had no idea what he was talking about, so I tilted my head to one side and pulled my brows together to silently communicate my befuddlement to him.

"The skin on the bruise is warmer than the unbruised skin because of the blood pooling there." he explained and I marveled at his sensitive fingers.

"I guess I've learned not to swat your grabby hands away," I teased in reply. The smirk returned. The way his lips curled up, climbing up his face toward his gorgeous dark eyes was too much. I needed to focus on anything else. I knew there had been SOMETHING I was trying to get him to tell me earlier. "Oh yeah." Great. I was thinking out loud. Edward just traced the curves and lines and shadows of my face with his eyes as I organized my thoughts. "I was asking you what the hell that was with Jake." There. Aside from the fact that my voice was little more than a lusty murmur, I sounded forceful.

Edward released my bruised hand but didn't budge away from me. I still lay on my back above the fluffy feather duvet, and Edward still hovered, most of his weight on the bed to my right, but his arm and leg were thrown over me. He was resting on his elbow with his jaw against his palm as he contemplated me. I took shallow breaths, desperate not to allow any more fog into my brain as I planned my attack. No surrender. No retreat.

"Jake?" I pressed.

"He's a busybody." Those fingers were tickling my arm. I grabbed hold of them, having learned not to swat them away.

"How did he know I was here?"

Edward pulled his hand out of my grasp and placed it on my hip. Could he hear my blood speed up? I thought he might because his lips pulled slightly to one side of his face as though he were exercising extreme restraint to keep from smiling triumphantly. "He had a hunch."

"But how do you know that? How can you know? How did he know? Stop deflecting and just be honest with me."

His hand began to caress my hip. Higher, lower, higher, lower. Slowly. Gah.

"Edward," shit! I shouldn't have said his name; he leaned in a stole a kiss, and I had to turn my head away from him to keep my thoughts on track. "I'm part of your fucked up world now, and I NEED to know."

He pulled his face a few inches away and scowled at me. "You talk like a sailor, Isabella."

I sighed. "If you keep avoiding this conversation, I'm going to be swept away by my vivid imagination, and I'll be fretting over a score of worst case scenarios. Do you want me to get worry lines?"

He found this amusing. He was freaking impossible. I sighed and began to squirm, inching my way out from under his heavy limbs. "Where are you going?"

"If you won't fill me in, I'll go talk to someone who will." I was surprised when he allowed me stand. I was also a bit wobbly. Something about him made me feel drunk, but without the headache. I stood with my leg against the bed, slyly stabilizing myself; it wouldn't do to let him know that he had turned my bones to jello. He watched my deliberate movements with a hint of laughter in his devious eyes. Oh, he was dangerous. And not because he could kill me with the flick of a finger or a misplaced nip; because he could disarm me with a glance or a breath or a smile. I needed to learn these tactics. I needed to build my arsenal.

I threw my arms up and arched my back in an exaggerated stretch. I felt the flannel shirt ride up on my belly, exposing a sliver of skin to the cool air. I turned my back to him and bent forward, grabbing my ankles and pulling until my back popped with a soft groan of relief. I really had been lying in one place for too long. I raised myself quickly and strode toward the bathroom, too quickly- trying to disguise the head rush with a hasty retreat.

Once inside the bathroom, I leaned against the door for a moment to regain my composure. I hadn't chanced a glance back at him, so I wondered if my transparent ploy had affected him at all. I quickly showered.

When I opened the door with a bath towel wound around me, Edward was sitting on the very end of the bed with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his handsome face. I ignored the look and began pulling open drawers on the lovely mirrored Deco vanity that sat against the wall opposite the fabulous bed.

"What are you looking for?" he called from across the room, for once not approaching me.

"A comb?" I was answering him, but it came out sounding like a question. Be strong. Be assertive. Be sure of yourself.

"And I suppose you want something to wear?"

"Obviously." I still wouldn't look at him, but I moved slowly when I moved at all. I hoped I was having some kind of impact. Oh. His frigid fingers were on the pink skin of my shoulders- pink because the water had been very hot, making his touch even colder.

"Bella," he breathed against my neck, "you're dangerous." Victory! He kissed my shoulder and then was gone. The door snapped closed behind him, but this time there was no thunk of the heavy lock falling into place.

I wasn't altogether surprised when it was Esme who entered a few minutes later with my clothes- freshly washed and folded, the ripped sleeve sewn up neatly- and a comb and brush and small collection of hair bands, bobby pins, and clips.

"Esme?," I hesitated. "May I call you Esme?"

"Of course, dear," she smiled warmly, and I felt instantly comfortable.

"Why is Edward hiding me from Charlie?"

She let out a weary sigh. "Well, Edward tends to be a bit… high strung." I couldn't help but laugh and she smiled at me as she settled herself on the small chair that faced the vanity mirror. She continued, "James really is dangerous, Bella. If Edward is being overly cautious, he has good reason. Edward mustn't lose you now."

"But, Charlie is in danger too, isn't he?"

"Your father's friends from La Push are keeping an eye on him." This was supposed to comfort me?

I was instantly horrified, "What can Billy Black do against James?! He can't even run for his own life, let alone protect Charlie's."

Esme's beautiful face crinkled into a wince. A light knock sounded at the door, and the knob turned. A small pale face with wide exotic eyes peered in. "Alice!" I leapt to my feet and ran toward the door. Esme grabbed my hand to keep me from throwing my arms around my friend, which was annoying, but Alice's face broke into a stunning smile, which was exhilarating.

"Hi Bella!" she waved giddily from the doorway then looked at Esme, "Carlisle's home, so I snuck up. Can I come in?"

I nodded wildly at her, but she was looking to Esme for permission. The woman holding my hand smiled warmly at Alice. "You tell me, dear. Can you?"

Alice's face brightened even more, which I never would have imagined was possible, and she bounced into the room. Instead of running to me for a hug, she settled herself on the floor near the window and curled her knees to her chest, grabbing her ankles as she sat. She was as far from me as she could be in the room, and although I longed for the close contact that I could obviously share with Esme and Edward, I allowed Alice her space. I wasn't sure yet how much I believed about the self-restraint issues, but I didn't want to make her uncomfortable by pushing it.

"Alice, dear, are you alright here on your own, or should I stay?" Alice scrunched her face in an odd but precious way as though she were calculating some complicated arithmetic in her head. Then she nodded.

"All fine," she said. Esme excused herself with a smile, and I took her vacated spot on the chair. "Bella, it's so great to see you! You look pretty skinny, but your face is kind of glowy, which I guess is due to Edward keeping you all cooped up here all day. I seriously wish I could hug you, but maybe soon. And you know I'm really disappointed in you."

Wow. It took me a few moments to let all of that sink in. Eventually my brain caught up with the end of her vocal explosion. "Disappointed?"

"There was the perfect opportunity to get the rumor mill going on old Ted and you let it slip away."

I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. "Huh?"

"Ted. Bundy. The worst English teacher on earth. Serial killings in her town. You should have started rumors, Bella. You were such a slacker." Her red eyes twinkled at me, and I couldn't help but laugh. She was the same Alice. She looked different. Her eyes were wrong, and she was more beautiful than ever, but she was also just the same.

"God I missed you."

"Me too." We just smiled at each other like dopes for a few moments. "Get dressed, and let's catch up."

I hopped up at her suggestion and began pulling my clothes on. I had completely forgotten that I was sitting there in a damp towel. It reminded me of Edward. "Why didn't Edward want you to come up and see me? You seem fine."

"Well, to be fair, Bella, this isn't easy. You smell better than fresh baked chocolate chip cookies, and my throat was burning for you even when I was just down there with Edward." She noticed the need-more-info look in my eye as I dragged the comb through my tangles. "Your scent is all over him. You heard Jacob, right? He could smell you, so despite his silly threats he knows you're alright. And he could probably hear you."

"Wait. What?"

Alice sighed. "Okay, so the Cullens are vampires."

"Yeah, I got that part."

"Hold on. Let me lay it all out. The reservation has this anti-vampire security system because this geographical area has had vampire problems for centuries. We like the climate." she added as an aside. "Anyway, so this anti-vampire system works like this: when vampires are in the hood, pubescent teens on La Push reservation do more than grow hair in new places. Well, they do grow a LOT of new hair in a LOT of new places. As well as fangs and paws and a tail."

She sat for a moment watching my face, possibly looking for a sign of understanding from me. Well, she wasn't going to get it.

"Yeah, so," she continued, "the kids who hit puberty when vampires are in the area get the ability to morph into giant wolves that are the only animals capable of killing vampires- aside from other vampires."

"Wolves?"

"Yeah, so your pal Jake is one of them, and probably every one of his posse is one as well."

"You're fucking with me, Alice."

She burst out laughing, the gleeful noise dancing through the air in the room like the sound of angels singing.

"I'm not! I swear. If you can take the leap to believe in vampires, you need to realize there is a lot more out there that's just as fucked-up."

I thought about this and then needed to confirm, "Jake?" Alice nodded. "Oh my god!" I exclaimed. "What about Quil?"

"What's a Quil?" Oh yeah, she wasn't there when…

"The wolf who popped Rose's cherry is who he is!" I exclaimed, and Alice's eyes went wide. I launched into the story with my arms flailing in animated gestures. She gasped in OMG'd in all the right places, and I trailed off in a thousand different directions, telling her about Emmett making out with Lauren and pissing Rose off, and then telling her about Rob and Kris and the live sex show, and telling her about the way I had really connected with Jazz-

I shouldn't have gone there.

Alice's whole face darkened as though a shadow had crossed overhead. Her eyes flickered up toward the door, and I turned to see Edward standing there, leaning against it with his beautiful hands hidden in his pockets. I had no idea how long he had been standing there because I had been so caught up in spilling the hot gossip to Alice that for once my Spidey senses hadn't tingled at his approach. In an instant he was sitting on the floor beside Alice with his arms engulfing her in a comforting embrace. I wished I could be the one hugging her, but I knew that wouldn't help the situation. Edward stroked her hair. I expected her to cry, but her strange eyes remained dry.

"It's okay," she whispered helplessly. "I'm okay." Edward entwined his fingers through Alice's and leaned his head back against the wall. He sat silently with her, and I loved them both so much that I thought I might suffocate from the weight of it. I sighed and he looked at me. His lips threw me a swift silent kiss, and I felt the blush climb up and face and set me on fire. Alice thumped him on the side of the head with a quick flick of her finger, and his hand instantly flew up to rub the spot.

"Ow."

I couldn't help but laugh. Which caused Alice to laugh. The spell of moroseness that had hung over us momentarily was broken.

Edward was still rubbing his hed as he said, "The pack is outside. Carlisle wants Bella to talk to Jacob."

My eyes went wide. I assumed that by "pack" he meant pack of wolves. If that's what he meant, and he expected me to talk to them, he was insane. He and Alice got to their feet and looked at me, apparently expecting me to do the same. "I'll go find Bella's shoes," Alice sang and skipped out of the room. Edward was by my side again, too quickly again, and his hands were all over me again.

"Stop doing that!" His hands fell to his sides. "No. Not that." His hands resumed the delicious groping that made me squirm. "Stop moving too fast, I mean. It freaks me out." He laughed at me. There he was thinking I was adorable again. He leaned to kiss me. That was better. I forgot my annoyance immediately and threw myself into the kiss. It had been half an hour or more since he had touched me, and that was really too long of a dry spell for me to withstand. The feel of him crushing me against his body while his lips and tongue hypnotized my senses was like water to my parched libido. I reveled in him.

A small cough sounded from the doorway. "Edward?" Dr. Cullen's authoritative voice interrupted the delicious embrace, and Edward pulled his lips from mine. His hand slid down my arm, and he tangled our fingers together while leading me to the door. Alice stood there with my shoes and a smirk. I saw her exchange a look with Edward, and he snorted mirthlessly. I wondered what that was about, and I made a note to ask Alice about it later. I had already learned that if I needed information, Edward was not the go-to source. We all followed Dr. Cullen down the wide stairway, and my eyes worked busily to take in my first view of the beautiful house.

It was decorated in various shades of pale, with tastefully modern furniture that hinted politely at affluence. The artworks that adorned the walls were all framed more beautifully than any I'd ever seen in museums, and I they all whispered to me each in its own distinct voice of urgency to pause and stare at them. I lamented that I didn't have the time, but I rejoiced that I would have another chance.

Edward and I followed Dr. Cullen to the front door where he paused, looking Edward in the eye intently. I waited politely for the doctor to say whatever he needed to say to Edward, but he never spoke. Edward did, however. "As long as he keeps his paws to himself, we'll be fine." Dr. Cullen sighed and almost rolled his eyes at the man holding my hand.

I don't know what I was expecting to find in the yard outside the house, but I seriously was not expecting to find it completely empty. Edward, Esme, Alice and Dr. Cullen formed a protective phalanx around me, not too subtly, and Edward never let go of my hand. He was walking cautiously, almost stalking forward, and his eyes were glued on some unknown point in the distance. He turned a puzzled gaze to Alice, and she shook her head. He again exchanged a meaninflu yet myseterious glance with Dr. Cullen and said, "Nothing" in reply to the bewildered look in Dr. Cullen's eye. This silent communication was getting creepy. Then Edward turned his face sharply to the left as a menacing, deep, low growl rumbled up from his chest.

My eyes searched the tree line in the direction that Edward was looking, but I could still see nothing. "There are six," he said. How could he see them? I could still see nothing. "Jacob is ready to try to blow through us, but Sam is holding him back." Where was Edward getting the info?

Dr. Cullen broke ranks and strode forward toward the trees. "Sam, we welcome you peacefully."

"He says that peace can only hold if we let Bella go."

I looked at Edward. Those words had come from him, as though he were translating.

"That's Bella's choice to make," Dr. Cullen replied to the empty expanse before us, and then he looked at me. Edward visibly stiffened. His posture became even more menacing than it had been before, and he tugged me back so that his body blocked me from the doctor. I turned to Edward and then squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Let me talk to Jake," I said to the trees, my voice trembling slightly just to make me feel more awkward than ever. I took a step forward like Dr. Cullen had done, but Edward didn't release my hand.

He said, "Jacob will come to talk to Bella if you'll stay with her and the rest of us stay back, Carlisle."

"That's fair, Edward," the doctor replied. I looked at Edward's face. He clearly didn't think it sounded very fair. His eyes were murderously dark, and the growl was reverberating through him, just loud enough for my ears to pick up. Alice stepped forward and took Edward's free hand. He looked at her sharply.

"Save it, Alice. I know you don't KNOW what's going to happen." He spat the words at her with an evil sneer.

"Edward!" I admonished, "Stop it. Just stay with Alice. I'll be fine."

He still didn't let go of my hand.

Dr. Cullen stepped toward me and pried my fingers away from Edward, and Edward moved his fingers instead to my face. He bent forward and kissed me softly. "If you don't come back to me," he whispered, "you'll break my heart."

Well. Not coming back to him wansn't an option then.

I saw Alice pull Edward back a few steps, and his free hand started compulsively molesting his mussed hair while Esme threw a motherly arm around his shoulder and Dr. Cullen coaxed me forward with a gentle tug. When my eyes turned forward again, I saw Jake standing just in front of the trees, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, despite the fact that it was December. When I saw him, I frowned, dropped Dr. Cullen's hand, and quickened my pace. Soon I stood a few feet from Jake. "Why the hell aren't you keeping an eye on Charlie?" I bellowed.

"Bells?" He looked completely flummoxed by my question.

"You're supposed to be keeping Charlie safe. Why are you here trying to have some kind of juvenile pissing contest with Edward?"

"What the-"

"Don't even start, Jake. I heard you calling him names. You don't just come to someone's house and call them names and threaten them. What kind of asshole are you?"

"Excuse me, Bella, but do you have any idea what kind of asshole HE is?"

"What?" It was my turn to be confused. "Who? Edward?" Was he crazy? "Edward has never been an asshole."

"No. Of course not. He's just a lying, bloodsucking murderer." His attempt at sarcasm was SO mature.

"Oh, good job, Jake. You're doing it again."

"Doing what? Just come home, Bella."

"Calling him names. And no. I'm staying right here for now." I paused and then added, "As long as someone stays with Charlie."

"Oh yeah. Cuz you're SO concerned about your dad." Ouch. "Do you have any idea what he's going through right now?"

I steeled myself against the hurt. I did know. I was worried about him, and it tore me up to do this. "What he's going through?" I repeated in a much lower, smaller voice. "What it's like when someone you love is just gone? Disappeared... In the middle of a shitstorm... When everything around you is falling apart... Yeah, Jake. I _do_ know just what it's like." I swallowed hard. "I don't want to make Charlie worry, but even more than that I don't want to put him through losing me. I'd rather let him be scared for a few days and lose a little more hair than have to bury me."

And I knew I'd won. Jake's eyes were cold and sad and defeated. Then they melted into glassy emotion. "But I love you, Bella Swan."

I felt my eyes grow hot as Jake stared me down and his declaration hung heavy in the air. God! I didn't want to cry. Why was he doing this to me?

Hare dare he do this to me! "Jake, I've had all the emotional blackmail I can take for one day already. Spare me." And then, because he really did look hurt for once, I reached a hand out and stroked Jacob's shoulder. "Don't worry about me. Dr. Cullen is a good man, no matter what you think. And Edward will keep me safe. And Alice is here-"

"Yeah, they kept Alice _real_ safe, didn't they?" Jake was glaring at Dr. Cullen. So much for the eyes welling over with tears.

"Jacob," the doctor said in his peaceful reassuring voice, "we have a common enemy in this plight. We're trying to protect innocent people from the same menace. Alice was innocent, and she means so much to us. If you want to drag her name into this like she's a pawn in a game, I suggest you reconsider. Everyone here wants to keep Bella's heart beating. Don't doubt that for a moment."

Jake stared at him. And then at me. And then over my head. I craned my neck to follow his gaze and saw Edward pacing back and forth between Alice and Esme like a caged panther, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on us.

"Bella, as soon as we kill this guy-"

"James" Dr. Cullen provided.

"-this guy James, you've got to go home to Charlie. Promise me you're not planning to... to like... like join this family or something."

"What?" I was seventeen for fuck's sake. What was Jake suggesting?

"You'll go back to Charlie, right Bells?" He was peering intently into my eyes, willing me to answer in the affirmative.

"Of course. Where else would I go, Jake? Don't be ridiculous." I couldn't stop myself from chuckling at him despite the fact that I didn't really find anything in this conversation humorous. Jake grabbed my hand and then pulled me into one of his signature bone-crushing hugs. I was startled at the body heat that radiated from his miles and miles and miles of bare flesh. I hugged him back as tightly as I could, but it was probably as feeble as the grip of a sick baby monkey to him.

"Will you call me every day, Bella?" Jake looked at Dr. Cullen when he asked, but I answered right away.

"Of course. I'll want to check in on you and Charlie and Billy and everyone. Oh," I just realized something, "can you keep an eye on Rose, too?"

Jake let a wry smile brighten his face for a small moment. "I think Quil's got it covered."

And with that, Jacob Black retreated toward the trees, and I heard a ripping sound as a blur of fur bounded away from me.


	25. Chapter 25

a/n: Special thanks to gallantcorkscrews for opinions, encouragement, and wickedness.

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Epiphany

When Jake left after our talk, Edward was beside me in a heartbeat with his arms around me. His eyes were dangerously dark, and I reached up to touch the purple bruise-like circles just beneath them that marred his otherwise perfect face. He never flinched away from my touch, though my hands were surely cold.

But of course, they wouldn't be cold to him.

He stared into my eyes, standing there in that overgrown chunk of field or meadow with trees rustling around us and his family just out of reach and the ghost of my best friend standing there as real as anything. We stared like no one else existed. I waited for him to kiss me or move me toward the house, but he didn't; he just stared, unspeaking, while I was mute and transfixed and lost in his dark eyes.

His scent was snapping at me in fits and snatches as the breeze whipped around from every direction randomly. I was overcome with the need to lick him, and I almost said as much to him, but then Alice sang his name, "Edward!"

His face briefly held a flicker of surprise and then he further incapacitated me with a grin that blossomed joyously over half his mouth.

"You want to lick me?" he whispered.

"What?"

"Do it, Bella. Lick me." He leaned his face closer to mine, his hands suddenly settling on my hips.

"How- how did you know that?"

That smile taunted and teased me. "Just do it, and I'll tell you."

I was embarrassed beyond belief, and I felt the heat erupt across my face. Self consciously, I looked over my shoulder to see if there was any possible way I might be able to angle my head to such a degree that my tongue would be entirely shielded from the view of Dr. and Mrs. Cullen.

They were gone.

Alice was gone.

The wolves were long gone.

Edward and I were standing in the cold wind, knee deep in damp grass, surrounded by encroaching gloom, all alone.

"Lick. Me." he drew the syllables out so that every letter was valiantly represented on his tongue, the better to tantalize mine and bend it to his will.

"It's twilight," I said, looking around at the pink in the edges of the sky.

He nuzzled against my mouth. "Lick."

His eyes were sparkling. I opened my mouth and leaned against his chest and craned my neck and lifted myself on my toes and stuck out my tongue and placed it flat against his jaw and dragged it slowly up and back at a diagonal to his ear.

Delicious.

I heard his breath stutter somewhere in his chest, and for a brief moment, a sound reminiscent of a purr vibrated against my fingertips that were clawing at his chest.

When I had licked as far as I could in one stroke, I drew my tongue back into my mouth and relaxed my neck so that my chin was lowered and I relieved my shivering calves of holding my weight. In this motion, I also exhaled slowly, and as I did so, I felt and heard Edward inhale deeply and I looked up at his face to see a look of extreme and intense satisfaction dancing there with a glittering coat of saliva.

"Mmmmm," was all he said before turning me around and leading back toward the house.

My brow knit. There was supposed to be something else. "Edward, you said you'd tell me."

"I will, love. Inside. You're cold. Alice is making you hot chocolate."

"She is?"

He only smiled at me, still looking blissed out about my tongue, and looking at that expression on his wonderful face made me smile as well. I was worried about looking ridiculous as we entered the house. What would Esme think when we walked in looking like a pair of cats who ate a flock of canaries?

Oh hell. Why should I care? I'm in love with a vampire. How weird can anything else really be?

When I got the answer to that innocent musing, I wished I had never pondered the question.

Edward was a fucking mind reader. No, really. He and Alice told me about it. Whatever thoughts are going through someone's head are his to plunder at will.

But there was a silver lining on this frightening storm cloud. Alice assured me with her _best_ best friend face that could never ever lie that I'm the one freakish Bermuda Triangle to Edward's super brain-dar.

"Nothing?" I clarified as I sipped at the thick bittersweet chocolate topped with fluffy giant marshmallows.

"Nothing," Edward confirmed from behind me where he acted as my chair on the floor of the room that had become my little nest. The way his chest vibrated when his vocal chords made a noise was like an electric thrill against my back.

"Then how did you know I wanted to lick you? It had just passed through my head." I took another self-satisfied sip as I waited for him to dig his way out of this one.

Alice answered. She was sitting across from us on the floor with her lean little legs akimbo. "I told him."

"Huh?" I stared at her. Edward was burrowing his nose in my hair, and it was incredibly distracting.

"You didn't."

"Yes I did," she argued.

"No. I heard you say his name."

"Right. Then I told him."

"No, you didn't."

"Yes I did."

"No you di- Edward!" his tongue had just danced a revival of the performance mine had acted out earlier. In my ear.

"Couldn't help it. Stop arguing," he murmured.

Alice sighed and took advantage of my distraction. "I knew as soon as you made the decision to lick him, and I thought it. And that's how I told him."

"As soon as I made the decision? Did I make a decision?"

"You certainly did."

I thought about it. "I guess I did. didn't I?" I looked at Edward out of the corner of my eye, and he smirked at me and kept ducking his head in toward my neck to lick at me.

"Edward you need to go hunting," Alice stated firmly. His arms tightened around me. My cup of warmth was empty and his proximity was leaching all my body heat away, and I shivered. His cool breath tickled my neck and I sunk back against him as hard as I could, in a vain and futile and ridiculously backward attempt to scooch out of the reach of his mouth and his breath.

"Edward." Alice was standing over us and glaring at him, which made him loosen his grip for some reason.

I may have whimpered slightly when we became disentangled, and I said "Can't I go with you?"

Everything stopped.

The movements from both of them stopped.

The sounds from the household stopped.

The pounding of my heartbeat stopped.

Everything stopped as Edward stood bolt upright and rigid with his eyes boring into me. I was caught in his glare, and I watched as his eyes noticeably darkened, from black to blacker than midnight, in a matter of seconds. They became fierce and dangerous and hungry and angry and frightened.

"NO!" he bellowed at me.

I shrank back from him. For the first time in my life, I was face to face with Edward the vampire, and it was a profoundly terrifying thing to behold.

In the second in which his voice filled the air and reverberated painfully in my ears, he was across the room and through the door. I was left stunned and woozy from the overwrought pounding of my heart. I might have swayed because Alice grabbed my elbow and then raced to the window and threw it open.

"It's freezing!" I scolded.

She leaned with her head sticking as far out the window as was physically possible while she gulped at the air, filling her lungs noisily.

"Alice?" I was standing, holding my elbows, my arms crushed into my torso as I shivered. She continued to gasp at the damp night air, and when she was sated, she turned her face toward me while remaining at the window.

"Sorry, Bella." Her beautiful voice was low and almost shaky. "I got too close. I wasn't thinking."

I willed my heart to slow down. "What the hell was that?"

"You just smell so-"

"No. I get THAT. I meant Edward. What did I do wrong?" I looked into my friend's strange red-black eyes and watched her pant at the window like an overheated tigress without a pond to soak in.

"He's just-" she hesitated, seemingly at a loss for words. "He does tend to overreact, Bella. And he's been skirting dangerously close with you. And the chances of him slipping up if you were around when he let himself fall into predatory mode-" she was speaking in short bursts, punctuated by her panting. I wondered how long it would take for her to calm down. I pulled the duvet off the bed and wrapped it around me, resuming my seat on the floor, but it wasn't as nice without Edward. But, God! The blanket smelled like him, and I let myself just get lost in that for a moment and forget the way he had yelled and the way he had glared and the way Alice had jumped and the way she was freaking out.

That was when it finally dawned on me that things would never be the same again.

Ever.

There was no way to reverse my life and take away the vampires and the mutant wolf boys and the dead friends and the worry in Charlie's eyes. There was no way to take it all back and start fresh. My life would never be THAT life again. I'd never be the girl with the sad extra-curricular calendar and the friends who were prettier than her and the dreams of getting a scholarship out of Forks. Without even being aware of it, I had become someone else. Someone new. Someone who believed in weird scary supernatural things but wasn't scared of them; someone whose heartbeat was a liability; someone whose happiness depended on death.

I was no longer Bella Swan. I was no longer _that_ girl. I was no longer young and happy and carefree. I laughed wryly to myself. A few months ago I would never have considered myself carefree. I'd had worries enough: debate club, history exam, rising cost of fuel for my gas-guzzling truck, what gifts to get my friends for birthdays and Christmas.

I was no longer that Bella Swan at all.

So who had I become? I looked at Alice. She was no longer Alice Brandon. She was no longer _that_ girl. She was not baking cookies or searching for Jazz down the empty aisles of the sad little small town supermarket; she was no longer counting up her GPA so she could stay in the top 10 of the class. What was she now? Who was she now? Was she a person or a beast or a monster or a ghost?

I looked at her. She was sitting on the floor near the open window. She appeared to be holding her breath. She didn't move at all. Her eyes were fixed on me, but they no longer looked frantic and frightening. She was calm. She was my friend. She was Alice and I was Bella. and I knew that some things couldn't change- no matter what,

And I came to understand that I was still Bella, even if Bella Swan was long gone. I had a new identity and a new nature and a new understanding, and the only way to keep my head above water in this brave new world was to be brave and be smart and understand it and be Bella.

I was Bella.

I _needed_ to be Bella. I needed to stop standing idly in the paths of the powerful waves that were pounding against me and reshaping me against my will.

I needed to _be_ Bella. I needed to stop letting the world mold me. I needed to mold my world into the right place for me to be.

I needed to shuffle off the heavy cloak of mortality that was holding me down. I needed to BE Bella and TAKE happiness when it dangled itself so dangerously and deliciously in front of me. I needed to HAVE Edward. Forever.

That was the new Bella. That was the good, right, True Bella. Bella was a woman who grabbed at the happiness that life offered and held onto it, no matter if it seemed so cold it would burn.

I needed to shuffle off Bella Swan and just be Bella and make Edward mine and keep him forever.

Forever. The real, long, True forever.

It had been a strange and horrible path that carried me to the Truth, but once I faced it, I was not afraid. Nor was I willing to turn my back on it. I was no longer THAT Bella Swan, so I really had no choice but to BE Bella, and to be perfectly honest, that sounded fucking awesome.

Alice was staring at me, her eyes full of wonder and concern. "He's determined not to do it, Bella."

"I'm determined too." I was prepared to put on my most obstinate face when the phone in my pocket jingled softly. My brow furrowed and I stared at the number. "Shit." I started to put the phone back in my pocket.

"You're just not going to answer it?"

"Alice, stop knowing everything I'm going to do. It's creepy." And then just to be contrary to Alice because she shouldn't be allowed to know what I had decided to do about Rose's call, I answered it. "Rose?"

"Bella! I know you told me not to call, but I'm so worried-"

I cut her off. "Rose, calm down. I'm fine. I told you I was fine." I tried to make my voice level and tranquil to emphasize my fineness. Then I panicked, "Did you tell anyone I called?"

"No, you told me not to." I sighed in relief and thanked her. The she asked, "Where are you, anyway? The police have been here looking for you. Your dad's going crazy."

I felt the hot tears well up in my eyes, and I sucked in a shakey breath. "I know."

"Bella. You need to come home."

"I am home, Rose."

"Oh! Well shit. I'm coming over." I heard a shuffling noise on her end of the line that might have been her arms sliding through the sleeves of her jacket.

"No!" Crap, crap, crap. If Rose went to my house thinking I was there, Charlie would interrogate her til the cows came home. "I'm not at Charlie's house." What could I tell her that would keep her from wandering around Forks after dark looking all warm-blooded and delicious? "I'm in Florida. With my mom. She freaked out, and I just needed to be with her."

"Then why did Charlie have an APB out on you?" Her voice was very reasonably bewildered.

"Well, Charlie and Renee just got their wires crossed, I guess. Charlie's all good now." I was starting to see a million ways in which this lie was going to come back to bite me. I looked up at Alice, and her lips were pursed while her brows were lost half-way up her forehead. She couldn't believe the web I was spinning either. She rolled her eyes at me.

"Oh." Rose sounded dubious. "Well, Charlie should have called to tell me you were alright." Now her voice was resigned. I had gotten away with it, at least until Charlie contacted her again to see if I had been in touch at all. Alice shook her head at me.

"Yeah. He's distracted I guess," I replied. Now for the more important question; "How are YOU, Rose? Are you keeping safe?"

"Oh Bella," she sighed. "I'm fine. I'm frickin' lonely without you. You know, I'm pissed that you didn't tell me you were leaving town. Don't expect me to pay to ship your Chrstmas present all the way to Florida."

"I know, Rose. I should have told you. But everything's fucked up. And don't worry about presents. We'll exchange gifts as soon as I'm back, and we'll have egg nog and gingersnaps and everything." I was snivelling now. The tears were flowing freely down my face. The last lie was too much for me to take because I knew it would never happen. I wasn't _that_ Bella any more, and Rose wasn't a part of the new world I lived in.

She heard the tears in my voice. "Jelly Belly! What's wrong?"

I sniffed a wet, snotty breath. My head was down with my chin against my chest and my free arm shielding my sad, shameful face from Alice. "I just want you to be okay, Rose. I feel like such a coward for leaving you on your own in the middle of all of that."

"Awww, sweety," I could hear that my weepiness had been contageous. "I'm fine. I'm gonna be fine. I have a date with Emmett tomorrow and everything."

That bit of news perked me right up. Good. Better Emmett than one of the freaks that belonged in MY world. I'd rather Rose have a date with real, human, mortal, every-day Emmett than with supernatural, mutant wolf-boy Quil. With Emmett, Rose would be safe. And happy. And normal. "Good. Call me and tell me all about it, okay?"

"Sure. You go be with your mom. Take it easy. Don't worry about Forks. It will still be here when you get back."

"I love you, Rose."

I heard a small, breathy laugh crackle through the earpiece. "You too, Jelly Belly. TTYL."

"Bye."

I wiped my soggy face on my sleeve and looked up to see Alice staring at me.

"You're the worst liar ever, Bella."

I sighed. "I know."

"Well, how's Rose?"

"Do you miss her, Alice?"

"Yeah. A lot." Her face shone with sincerity.

I nodded. "Yeah. Well, she's excited that she finally has a date with Emmett."

Alice smiled, and her face brightened up with genuine good will toward Rose, "That's awesome. I always knew they'd-"

"Alice?" I leaned toward her but stopped myself before I got too close. Her eyes had glazed over and seemed to be focussed on a spot somewhere in the next county. "Alice? You okay?"

After several moments in that same posture, she shook her head lightly, as though a bug had buzzed past her ear. "Yeah," she breathed. "Yeah. Fine." She stood up quickly. "I need to go. Edward will be back soon to hang with you."

And with that, I was alone in the room, still shaking lightly with emotion, confused from Alice's strange actions, and feeling like a bit of a fool for lying to Rose in such an obvious, transparent way. Something was going to go wrong very soon.


	26. Chapter 26

**a/n: gallantcorkscrews is The Don.**

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work

Chapter Twenty-Six: We Can Work It Out

While waiting for Edward to return, I rambled through the bedroom and spied a little pile of rubble on the bedside table, which I recognized as the former contents of my pockets. I was surprised to see my phone, looking all beat-up and antique compared to the sleek and shiny technological wonder that Edward had left behind with me. There were six quarters, three pennies, a rumpled up five dollar bill, a receipt for a pack of gum, the remnants of the pack of gum, and the dull nub of a pencil that I always carried in case of emergency. I never knew when I might need to write something down.

I picked up my phone and turned it on. The battery was still half charged. I was amazed that it wasn't completely dead from the icy swim it had taken. The back panel wasn't snugly closed, so clearly someone had taken the poor old thing apart and dried it out for me in hopes of salvaging it.

After a few seconds, the screen began having tantrums about the thirteen voicemails and forty-one texts I had waiting. Good grief. The battery would never last through all of that, so I just settled myself back against the fluffy pillows and scrolled through the laundry list of missed calls. Eight of them were from Charlie, and there were three each from Rose and Renee. The balance were from two different local numbers, one of which was close to the number for the desk at the Forks Police Station, so I assumed the other must be from there as well.

My heart clenched up in my chest when I thought about my father and how horrible this must be for him. I wondered if I would ever see him again. I had assured Jake that I would, but that was before I realized how unrealistic that might be. The more I thought about it, the less likely it seemed to me that I would ever fit in again in my old life.

So much had changed, and I wondered if it was too much. Would I really go back to Charlie's house? If I couldn't do that, could I expect Edward to keep me?

The phone buzzed. Crap, it was that FPD number again.

I fumbled nervously with the buttons to send the call directly to voice mail before it could ring too many times and give away the fact that my phone was no longer shut off.

I sighed.

I was thirsty.

I kicked my legs over the side of the bed and walked over to the door.

Not locked.

I wandered out into the hall cautiously because I had no idea where the light switches were, and the last thing I needed was to fall down that giant staircase and concuss myself to death in the empty house.

I would have taken the time to find a light and explore the house if it hadn't been so spooky in the dark. I nearly knocked a lamp over in the front room, and as I caught it, I pulled the chain to spill a little light across my path. I could make out an arched doorway across the space, and I imagined the kitchen would be there. I stepped carefully, keeping to the balls of my feet in order to keep my footsteps silent in the giant, echoing, empty house. When I reached the kitchen and found a light switch right by the door where it should be, I flipped it on and just about jumped out of my skin when I caught a glimpse of movement across the room from me. My hand clutched at my neck as I stared wide-eyed into my own reflection gaping guiltily at me from a blackened window. I gasped. The whole wall on the back side of the room was one big sheet of glass. The blackness of night created a mirror-like surface, and I realized that if anyone were outside, they'd be able to see me clearly while remaining invisible to me. In the tense atmosphere engendered by my paranoia and the very reasonable fear I felt all the time lately, I was too edgy to feel comfortable with the fishbowl effect that the windows created. I flipped the light switch impulsively to protect myself from whatever might be lurking out there, but I hadn't given adequate consideration to the effect of my rash action.

I stood in pitch blackness, my eyes hesitant to absorb any of the dim light that remained from the doorway and the glowing digital clock display on the face of the oven.

I groped around for the refrigerator door, knowing that opening it would provide a less harsh source of light for the room. After stumbling once and breaking a fingernail I found the fridge and opened the door.

Maybe I had expected to find a decanter of blood or a casserole dish full of entrails. I didn't really know if vampires ate anything other than blood, but I figured it they did it was bound to be disgusting.

At any rate, I had mentally prepared myself to be shocked at whatever lurked in the refrigerator. That way I could stop myself from _acting_ shocked when I laid eyes on whatever it was. But all I found was a case of half-liter bottles of water and a tub of cream cheese.

Well.

I grabbed a bottle of water and was satisfied it hadn't been tampered with when the lid made a sharp plasticky crackle as I twisted it. I left the fridge door open and turned to survey the room as bit as I lifted the bottle to my lips.

I screamed in earnest and the bottle flew forward from my fingers, splashing water over my arm and my feet, splattering wetly on my chin and shirt, cascading all over the countertop and floor in front of me. Instead of my own reflection, a tall, still form lurked right outside the clear glass back door, his paper-white skin shining brilliantly in the darkness, illuminated from a combination of the feeble light from the bulb in the fridge and the half-hidden sliver of moon that floated in the clouds.

He reached slowly for the door handle and began to step inside as I remained frozen in place, just within the influence of the cold air from the refrigerator. He moved silently toward me and closed the fridge door.

"You're shivering."

"You scared me."

"Did I?"

He sounded doubtful, discouraged. I reached toward him, instantly comforted by the warm, succulent scent of spice and honey that emanated from him. My hand fell limply to my side as though it had been slapped away when he slid just out of my reach, so quickly I might have misjudged the distance between us if I hadn't know he was capable of moving faster than my eyes could track.

"Edward?"

Saying his name seemed to affect him normally because he took my hand and moved me away from the puddle in which I stood. But instead of pulling me into his arms, he simply pulled me to a barstool by the wide kitchen island. He lifted me into the seat without even getting close enough for me to kiss him, and he was out of my grasp again before I could blink.

I watched in dumbfounded anguish as his ghostlike hands and his white face floated eerily in the blackness of the room. I heard a smooth drawer slide open, and Edward must have retrieved a towel because he fluttered around the scene of chaos I had created and then tossed something against the counter that landed with a delicate splack.

I made out his face again as he looked my way. The drawer rolled open and closed again, and Edward was in front of me as some soft, clean-smelling cotton smoodged across my mouth.

I tore the towel from his fingers with petulant force and dabbed at the front of my shirt. Did he think I'd just let him get away with the silent treatment and cold shoulder? Earlier in the day he'd have been all over me, and I was pissed that something was changed. Then I was scared that something was wrong.

"Edward?"

Nothing.

I let a wry snigger escape my lips. All I did was keep saying his name, as if that would fix whatever he had decided to break. "I'm a broken fucking record." I slid down from the bar stool and crept by inches back to the place where the fridge should have been to retrieve another bottle of water.

I was still thirsty.

But instead of finding the fridge handle, I got Edward's arm. I tried to jump back from his personal space, but he caught my fingers and wouldn't let me move.

"Thirsty?" His voice was concerned but cold. Clinical. He was asking about symptoms rather than checking on my well-being.

"Yes."

The fridge opened again, and I squinted so I wouldn't miss a split second of my chance to study his face. It was tight and grim. His jaw was on edge, and his mouth was strung up in a line, and his eyes were lemondrop hard.

I sighed and took the bottle from him. He was blocking my exit toward the room I had originally entered from, and I wasn't familiar enough with the surroundings to try to grope out another route, so I stood there and twisted the cap off the bottle with the same crack as before and took a sip. The water was almost painfully cold, and my teeth ached a little as it filled my mouth. It reminded me of Edward's cold wet tongue.

"I don't like standing in the dark," I whispered.

"Oh. Sorry. I forgot about that." Funny, he didn't sound sorry.

We moved into the room where the lamp still glowed with slightly golden light. It seemed too bright now. It shone an unwelcome spotlight on the grim wreckage that Edward had brought in with him. He maneuvered me to the sofa and paced lightly back and forth behind me, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to prickle each time his cool wake passed by. I sighed loudly, making my frustration crystal clear, and I slammed the bottle of water onto the coffee table with a careless little splash.

"Edward, what is this? What have you done?"

He stopped pacing, and I turned to look at him. Grim mouth. Hands in pockets. I wanted to kick him.

"Try to see it my way, Bella." Here we go.

"See what your way, Edward?"

The pacing began again, quickly, frantically. Like a rabid animal in a cage. I rose up onto my knees and rested my arms on the back of the sofa so I could stare at him. Both hands left his pockets at the same time and assaulted his hair.

"This is my fault." He was muttering to himself like a lunatic. "All my fault."

"Shit, Edward! What have you done?" He was worrying me. What the hell had happened while he was out 'hunting'?

He stopped in his tracks and looked at me. "Do you have to swear so much?"

I burst out laughing. The look on his face was so intense, and the tension in the air was so palpable, and the mood he was in was so dark, and it was my language that he chose to address?

"You're ridiculous, Edward." I reached a hand out and grabbed him. I pulled him toward me, and was pleased that he was cooperating with that. Even so, he rested one hand on the back of the sofa instead of touching me. The other kept molesting his hair while his eyes focused on nothing. On anything but me.

"What are you blaming yourself for now?" I touched his face.

He broke from his studiously tortured thousand yard stare to meet my eyes. "If I hadn't been so selfish, I could have stopped all of this a long time ago. And you could be happy. And I wouldn't be in your life."

That was crazytalk.

"I can't be happy without you, Edward."

"You were happy before you knew me. And that's how your life should have stayed." No matter how I tugged on his collar, he would not bend to me.

"I'm happier now." He looked dubious. "Honestly. I never imagined this feeling. I never dreamt there could be anything so fulfilling." I continuously ducked my head into his line of vision as I spoke, maintaining eye contact with him, no matter how he tried to look away. "Damn it, Edward. Just talk to me."

He stopped avoiding my eyes. His hands reached out and grabbed my shoulders. Every time I opened my mouth to argue with him, he gave me a squeeze and shook me to keep me quiet. "I love you, Bella. And I can't have you. I shouldn't have you. I shouldn't even want you. I've never done anything to deserve the way I got to hold you and kiss you before. I'll never be worthy of that. And all I could ever offer you is a horror show. And if I love you, I can't do that to you. And no matter what, I _have_ to hurt you. I _will_ hurt you. And if I had just done what I was supposed to do before, then this never would have happened, and you'd be perfectly happy without me-"

"SHUT UP!" I couldn't believe he finally let me break into his idiotic tirade. "Right there, Edward. Nonsense."

I beat my silly fist against his chest, and it hurt. Me.

"Nonsense." Tears were welling in my eyes. I had to try to quell the nauseating feeling of rejection so I could knock some sense into my incredibly stupid vampire. "There is no 'perfectly happy' without you."

"You would never have known th-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP. IT'S MY TURN." A tear rolled down to my chin. Damn. I sniffed and blinked and tried to inject some assurance into my voice. "Even if life had been so cruel as to keep me from ever meeting you, Edward, I never would have had this with anyone else."

He tried to interrupt me again, and I put my hand over his mouth with a stern warning glare.

"Never. No one. No one belongs to me but you. So this feeling- it only comes from you. And even if Alice was still, well... Even if none of this had happened, don't kid yourself, Edward. I'd be half of what I am right now. And I'd only be half of me forever. Or until I died. I'd only be a fraction of myself if I had never known you." I was sniveling by the time I finished saying all that, and I was aware that I had said it badly, and I hated that I couldn't make him understand, because this was so incredibly important.

I rubbed my sleeve into my face and braced myself for his rebuttal.

"I'm a monster, Bella. How can _you_ want me?" His voice was low and hot.

"You are looking at yourself all wrong." My voice was a whisper. "You're looking at _me_ all wrong." I posed in genuflection before him with my knees sunk into the sofa cushions and one fist clutching desperately at his shirt as he stood before me and searched my soggy face with his radiant eyes.

"How should I see you, Bella?" He looked defeated and sad. I wanted to say the right thing. I wanted to give him faith in me. I was too aware of my weakness, my fallibility, my mortality. I knew my liabilities. I wracked my brain to come up with my assets so I could lay them out for him and make him want me again.

"See me as yours." It was all I could think of.

His gaze didn't waiver.

I wanted him to want me.

I hesitantly released his shirt from my grasp, moving tentatively, ready to tighten my grip again if he were to make a move to put distance between us. But he stayed. Good.

I removed my shirt.

He stayed.

After about three seconds without reaction from him, I reached my shaking fingers to the buttons that guarded his chest from me.

I couldn't even unfasten one button. My hands were shaking too much. I reached my fingers through the opening between the third and fourth buttons, and he moved with invisible speed.

Maybe it was the warmth of my shaking fingertips. Maybe it was the pulse that was beating so hard through them that even I could feel it. Maybe it was because my bra was a little bit see-though on the edges.

Whatever.

He moved over the back of the sofa and pushed me onto my back and covered me with his mouth, and I heard him say it.

"Mine?"

"Yes." He had knocked my breath out when he pounced, and I was surprised and relieved and excited and so much in love with him.

"Mine."

His hands were all over, and his mouth was all over, and I wrapped myself all around him. I was where I needed to be.

I could have stayed there forever, falling out of consciousness with Edward. Falling and floating and wishing he would rip the rest of my clothes off, but after licking my collar bone to within an inch of its life, he looked at me closely.

"Your eyes are all dark, Bella."

"I have dark eyes."

He smiled a beautiful lop-sided smirk. "They're darker."

"You have a profound effect on me." I stretched my neck so my lips could maintain contact with his jaw. If he wanted to chat, fine. But I had already moved on to better things.

"Look at me, my love," he stilled my face with his hands and rested my head against the sofa and hovered over me waiting for my eyes to focus.

"Your eyes are darker, too," I noticed.

"Yes. You have a profound effect on me as well." I already knew that because he was settled between my legs, and the physiological evidence was impossible to ignore. However, I made no innuendo. I wasn't sure how that kind of flirting was accomplished, and I knew it would sound crass if I said anything. Besides, he already cringed at half of my vocabulary, anyway.

"Bella, I'm dangerous." My mind had wandered for only a second, but even so, his words confused me. I tried to catch my brain up to him again.

"Huh?"

"Right now. Right now your life is hanging by a thread. Do you realize that?" He stared unblinkingly into my eyes.

I sobered myself up, mentally shaking off the fog of lust and vampy goodness that had me hypnotized. When I didn't answer him, he kept going. "You're in more danger right now than you have ever been in, in your entire life, Bella. Do you realize that? Do you understand?"

"You want to eat me?" God, how stupid could I sound?

Pretty darn stupid because he laughed at me. I felt my face turn red. "That's a good way to put it," he replied. And though he laughed, his voice was serious. "I want to devour you, Bella."

Chills shimmied through my bones.

"Yes. Finally," he whispered when he felt my shiver. "You finally get it, don't you?"

"I'm not scared of you, Edward." He looked angry for a moment when I said that. Then he licked his teeth, looking like a ravenous predator.

"You should be. This is your life, Bella."

"Oh."

He looked irritated by my response. "Oh?" he mimicked me.

I touched his parted lips. "Edward, I know what I have to give you."

His shoulders stiffened. I wouldn't let him take the soap box. It was my turn to have the floor.

"Try to see it my way, Edward. What would you give for me?"

His eyes widened. Was he shocked that I would go for the jugular right out of the gate?

I refused to let him have time to turn the tide of the conversation. "Tell me what I am worth to you."

He stared with hard eyes. He looked delicious. "Everything. I'd give everything. You're worth everything."

Right answer. I kissed him. "And what do you want from me. Edward?" I breathed against his lips.

No hesitation, "Everything."

Right again.

"It's the hardest thing in the world to give everything, but it's usually the only way to get everything." I said. "And when it comes to you, you need to understand that I am just as greedy and selfish as you imagine yourself to be." I bit his chin, enjoying the way my teeth scraped with a gritty vibration against his hard flesh. "I deserve to have everything, don't I?"

Edward closed his eyes and crushed me into his chest. The moment to seduce him had passed, but I felt like I had won a significant battle.


	27. Chapter 27

**a/n: gallantcorkscrews writes some mighty fine vengeance.**

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Dangerous Liaisons

Night noises turned to pre-dawn noises, and Edward and I stayed in the same symbiotic embrace until all the sounds outside the house stilled, signaling the return of his family from their hunting trip. A moment later I heard footsteps on the porch, and I had the wherewithal to understand that the stomping was for my benefit because they normally moved silently- to me, at least. Edward would have heard their thoughts as they approached. I still found that facet of him mystifying. I studied the slight shift in his features when he was _listening_ to them. I watched in hopes of learning to decrypt every subtle twitch in his jaw or flutter of his brow or line of his lip. I could watch his face for hours without ever growing tired of it, no matter if he were utterly still, which was one of his amazing talents, or if he were laughing or thinking or reading or even just looking at me. Edward's face was indescribably expressive and intriguing to me. And handsome.

Alice interrupted my reverie with a fluttering entrance. Her eyes were lighter than before, and she carried a fresh air of tranquility around her. She was followed by the doctor and his wife. Esme's eyes were honeygold in the dim light that made our lone lamp seem more feeble than ever, and her face was docile despite the fact that I was still pulling my arms through my sleeves while Edward made some futile swipes at his hair as she entered. She seemed to be the kind of woman who took all things in stride. I wondered if she woke up from her deathbed with that same peaceful little simper on her face. I looked toward her husband, her creator, and I imagined that if I were an unhappy woman who was handed a new life by a handsome man, I might become a little insipid myself.

I gasped at my own thoughts. Not only was I being ridiculously uncharitable toward a woman who had helped me immensely; I was also cursing myself. After all, my only desire was to wake up from death to see my Edward's eyes watching over me.

I looked at him again and found him staring intently at me. His face was a troubled mask. No doubt he had heard my sharp intake of air as I had let my mind wander half a moment earlier, and he was chagrinned at his inability to capture my thoughts as they flew through my hyperactive head.

"What are you thinking, love?" his voice was a symphony to me. I wondered if he sounded as wonderful to anyone else. I hated the thought that he might have called hundreds of other women "love" over the course of his interminable life. Too late I realized that I was letting my imagination run rampant again, and every emotion played out on my face for Edward to contemplate. I forced myself to latch onto a thread of speculation that I had intended to discuss with him earlier. I ignored the fact that Alice was sitting on the floor at our feet thumbing through a magazine. I didn't bother to turn my head to see that Esme and Carlisle were on the sofa by the darkened fireplace.

I shivered and wondered if it would be rude to ask for a fire.

Edward was still peering at me, the lines of frustration mounting at his mouth. If I didn't speak soon, I feared he would roar at me like a feral beast.

I tried desperately to gather my thoughts. "You know, Edward, this might sound weird, or you might think I'm over-thinking this, but I've had a lot of time to think, and maybe I just like to find patterns-"

He interrupted my babble with his lips. I felt my face ignite in a blush. With three other people in the room, the freedom with which Edward touched and kissed and caressed me seemed a little... awkward?

"Just tell me," he urged gently, calming me, leading me back into the thoughts I wanted to explore rather than allowing me to wander deeper into my nonsense.

"Well, everyone that I knew who died in this mess, I sort of forged a new connection with them right before they were killed. It's weird, and possibly narcissistic, but I feel like in some large way, this has been about me getting to you. Everything that has happened has been pushing me at you and making you necessary to my survival."

I saw one of those looks pass over his eyes, and I knew from her posture that Alice was commenting on my observation in her head.

I felt his voice without hearing it as he hmmmmm'd thoughtfully. "A bit narcissistic, yes." I noted that he was refraining from enlightening about whatever Alice had thought of my statement. Another kiss. I pretended to ignore his patronizing lips and brushed his hair over to one side and then the other with my fingers. The touch invariably made him close his eyes, which I loved, and his hair would always stick straight out in whatever direction I moved it, as if to say, "I'll let you guide me, but I won't do as you say." I could amuse myself by running my fingers through his hair for hours if he would let me.

"Bella, what do you see in me?" He touched my eyelids as he whispered.

"Well," I lifted my chin to kiss his fingertips. "I'm really shallow, Edward. And you're so pretty." He laughed half-heartedly and indulged in a languid kiss. Before I had a chance to answer his question properly, the energy between us shifted as Edward went from louchely basking in the heavy lust that ribboned its way between us to tense, alert, fierce, taut, and deadly.

I tired to reverse the unpleasant tide by nuzzling my mouth against his neck, but he was already in motion, standing, moving too far away from me.

"What was that noise?" Edward looked up at the ceiling. I didn't like the loss of contact from his mouth, and when the soothing coldness of his lips left mine, they felt too hot from being crushed and frozen. "Did you turn your phone on?"

I blinked at him, unable to process his question with my muddy grey matter. I was only alert enough to notice that all the other occupants of the room were adopting various postures of alarm.

"I heard your phone buzz. Bella, they can find out where you are with that thing, you know." He was half way up the flight of stairs before I was even on my feet. I steadied myself with a hand on the back of the sofa for a minute. He moved too damn fast, especially after we had been so still, and he had been overloading my autonomic system with his vampiric dexterity and perfection.

By the time I reached the room where I had left my phone, Edward was staring at the little screen. The phone looked unworthy of being cradled in his perfect hand.

As I scampered across the floor toward him, Edward muttered a litany of curses that he had clearly been collecting over the century, just waiting for the right moment to spit them from his perfect lips. I pressed my body against him in reaction to the dire tension that suddenly filled the space around us. WHAT NOW? Edward's arm fell around me, and I was comforted that he pressed me even closer to his body. He wanted me.

The three others were hovering in the doorway like mannequins in a store window: still, silent, beautiful. Edward spoke to them in a low buzz with lips that blurred, and I realized that just as my eyes were sometimes too feeble to catch all of his movements, in this moment my ears were not up to the task of following his words.

I waited patiently for him to refocus on me, but when he did, a chill shook my frame. His fingers tangled into my hair and his eyes bored into mine. Oh dear. This was bad.

He bent his tall frame over me and said my name against my mouth. He said it too many times for me to count and too fast and too low, like a prayer. I kissed him, and he shut up to kiss me in return. His mouth was desperate like his hands and his eyes. Oh God. What now?

"Edward?"

He released me before his name could leave my lips, and he was gone, with Alice on his heels. I heard them arguing in the foyer. Esme and the doctor were blocking my egress, so I waited in the open doorway, listening intently and fighting the sense of dread that was leeching the joy from my heart.

I couldn't figure out what they were fighting about, and my heart was racing in alarm, and my ears were ringing in panic. Which made me think of my phone. I spun on my heel and dove across the bed for it.

A picture message showed Rosalie sipping a cappuccino at the cafe in Port Angeles.

Why did that send Edward into full-on surly vampire mode?

I stared at the picture, looking closely for clues. Rose was sitting in the same cafe where we had been a hundred times before. She wore her puffy faux-fur jacket. She had a spoon in the porcelin mug, and the foam was visible. The window behind her showed that morning was bright and fresh in the sky, so the picture was only moments old. And the reflection in the window-

James.

I shoved the phone into my pocket and ran toward the stairs. Dr. Cullen had already descended, leaving me in Esme's care. I brushed past her before she realized my intent.

"Bella, you need to stay here!" I ignored her, though I knew she was following me, could easily outrun me, and could definitely overpower me. I had the other phone in my hand now- the nice sleek one that Edward had left with me- the one that "they" couldn't use to find me- the one I had spoken to Rose on- the one she definitely would have used to send me a picture message if she were going to do so.

I dialed.

It rang.

"Rose, where are you?"

"Hey Bella, what's up? How's Florida?" Well, Rose certainly didn't SOUND as though she were being eaten by a sadistic vampire.

"Have you had your phone on you all morning? Where are you? Are you alone?"

"Whoa there, B. Why are you spazzing on me?"

God! She was being annoying. I was pacing back and forth in the entryway of the house while Esme, who had zipped past me before I could get outside, stood sentry on the threshold.

Must. Make. Rose. Focus. "I got a picture message from you."

"When?"

"Today. Just now."

"Why would I send you a picture now?" She sounded like she thought I was crazy.

"I dunno, Rose. Are you someplace exciting?"

"Well, I'm on my way to meet Emmett!" Oh dear. She lost focus. I had to try to steer the conversation back on course

But wait! "What the hell, Rose! It's like eight in the morning. You're going on a date NOW?"

I heard her tut at me. "Well, Bella, since my mother won't let me out of the house except during daylight hours, we can't exactly go skinny dipping int eh moonlight, can we?"

"As if you'd do that anyway. Where are you meeting him?"

"There's this little clearing in the woods off the trail from First Beach where Emmett says we can use his telescope."

Oh my lord.

"Rose?"

"Hmm?"

"Is 'telescope' a euphamism?"

"Bella, he wants to show me the migrating whales. He says you can spot them out at sea from there if it's clear enough."

I sighed. "Okay, Rose, listen. I just got a picture of you in the cafe in Port Angeles having a cappuccino."

"What?" Finally she sounded alarmed.

"Yeah. And clearly you have your phone on you right now, so what gives?"

I could practically hear the wheels spinning in her head. "There was this guy."

"And?"

"I was talking to Emmett when I got to the counter, and you know how I hate that, so I told him I'd call him right back. And I set the phone by my purse while I paid, and I guess I left it sitting there because after I got my coffee and sat down, this guy came over to my table with my phone and said he noticed that I had left it by the register."

Bingo. "What did the guy look like, Rose?"

"I dunno. Kinda good looking. Nice features. He smelled great."

Now, I was stuck. Should I tell Rose that the guy who chivalrously restored her phone to her is a mass murderer? That might totally freak her out and send her driving off the side of the road. He could be following her and get to her in time to eat her up before she died. Gah. "Rose, he took a picture of you with your phone and sent it to me, and I called because he sent it to _my_ phone, but you know I've been using this _other_ phone. He probably overheard you talking to Emmett about where you're going, and he could be dangerous."

Silence.

Breathing.

"Are you telling me this is Creepy Guy?"

"Don't freak out, Rose. Just get someplace populated."

"I can't leave Emmett out there! You just told me this guy overheard where I was meeting Emmett, and now you want me to abandon him!"

Oh jeez. Maybe the brightness of daylight will buy some time. "Just stay in your car til I get there."

Her voice was smaller; she was frightened. "You're not in Florida, are you?

I sighed. "I'll explain later. See you soon, Rose." With that I lowered the phone and turned toward Esme.

"Do they have any idea where to go?" I kept my eyes steady on hers. I had read that one should avoid blinking when addressing an adversary.

"I'm sure Edward is following the road between Forks and Port Angeles, hoping to cross the trail."

"They won't be on the road anywhere between Forks and Port Angeles."

"I'll call Carlisle and-"

I cut her off. My eyes were stinging a little already. I wondered how long I'd need to refrain from blinking in order to ensure she took me seriously. "Esme, we have to go out there."

"Bella-"

"Esme, this is going down in La Push." I waited for a reaction. She satisfied me by making a small, dainty "O" with her lips. "If I'm not there when Jake and his friends catch on that your family is there..." I trailed off to let her draw her own conclusion.

Esme ushered me toward a side door at the far end of the entryway, grabbing a key from the drawer of a Chinese looking red laquer table that seemed oddly out of place in the beige-on-beige rooms. The door opened into the garage, and I ran toward a sleek black Mercedes when its lights flased, indicating that Esme had remotely unlocked it for me.

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut as she drove at an alarming speed along the meandering driveway while talking on her phone at the same time. I was relived that the phone call was short, but she disappointed me by gently grabbing my clenched hand from my knee rather than placing both of her hands on the wheel where they should have been.

It seemed to take only seconds to swerve over the cliffside roads to First Beach. Alice's memorial was a flicker of color that flitted past the window as we sped by. Esme parked haphazardly across three spaces in the empty lot and was at my door before I had unbuckled the seatbelt. She grabbed me with alarming effortlessness and glided up the steep, rocky path with me slung over her shoulder. Her balance never waivered, and her speed never slackened as she rushed us toward our dangerous liaison.

I was jostled before my eyes could focus on the surroundings, and my lungs were flooded with Edward's reassuring scent even before I realized I had been passed off to his arms. He held me with more care but in a much tighter embrace as he padded through the carpet of dead leaves and patches of white that reminded me of the higher elevation and the excessive cold.

I spied a clearing over Edward's shoulder. At one edge of it, Alice, Carlisle, and Esme stood facing Rose and Emmett, who were crouched near a rock. I recalled that a nice vantage of the sea opened up from the top of that boulder. Charlie had dragged me up here one summer to watch whales. We hadn't spotted any that day.

Then I saw that James was poised in a combattive posture just to the far side of the rock. And Jazz stood hovering over my friends.

As yet, they were both unharmed.

Edward dropped me at the foot of a tree and reached an arm around each side of me so that I was buried in his chest while he did whatever he was doing- attacking the poor tree, from the sound of it. I felt chips of wood hit my arm and settle in my hair. He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me backward into a sweet smelling, cold little cave that he had apparently just carved out from the ancient trunk. I fit there snugly with a nest of wood shavings beneath me. "Stay put," he kissed my mouth, twice, desperately, before turning his back on me. The whole process of fitting up a little place to stash me and then saying farewell took less than a minute, and I was still dazed at what I had beheld as we skirted the clearing.

Once Edward stalked away from the mouth of my burrow, I could see Alice dancing a tight little circle around James while Esme and Carlisle cautiously tried to herd Jazz away from Rose and Emmett.

But Jazz was fast, and he pounced with deadly accuracy before anyone could step in.

Edward had initially run toward Alice after stowing me away, to help her lure James further away from Jazz. Divide and conquer. Even I could see that was how this had to work. But when Rose screamed, Edward turned his angry eyes just long enough for James to strike Alice. In the moment of chaos, I nearly lunged to help her when I saw her tiny body flying through the air.

Rose's screams were drowned out by the deafening crash made by James' fist on Alice's face. And then another sound, low and strange, began to percolate in the background just as Esme's lithe form flew to the opposite end of the clearing with Rose in her arms. After that I couldn't see my friends anymore because Edward was slinking through the foreground, so I desperately watched my lover.

Edward grabbed James' arm while it was still extended in the follow-through from his earth-shattering blow to my best friend's head, and then he ripped the arm right off.

Everything went into surreal stop-action animation, and I held my breath when the sharp loud wail, pitched too high to be human, filled the clearing.

The vibrations shook snow drifts free from tree branches and sent birds fluttering away with scattering clouds of feathers in every direction, all around. If the scene hadn't been so terrifying, it would have been beautiful.

While Edward was in motion, I caught sight of Emmett's eyes. They were wide with horror and pain, staring out from the cocoon of Jazz's marble arms, and he struggled less and less fiercely as seconds passed and Rose sobbed and Edward rushed in. Jazz's face was invisible against Emmett's throat until Edward's foot made contact with it, soundly and solidly and deafeningly. Emmett tumbled to the ground with his arms frozen stiff right where they had been before he'd been released. He was paralyzed. Whether with fear or pain or maybe the venom, I didn't know. I wanted to run to him and try to stop the gasping and the guttering noise that was spluttering from him. I wanted to stop the flow of blood that was streaming from his neck. I wanted to stop everything, but I did as I was told, and I stayed where I'd been put, helpless and useless and pointless and lost and scared.

Jazz knelt with his head bowed from Edward's kick. The blood that dripped from his lips was not his own. His red eyes rose slowly and menacingly to survey the enemy surrounding him. Carlisle was edging in, opposite Edward, pressing the attack toward the boulder, using the natural barrier to keep Jazz in check.

Edward was covering the space between James and Jazz, wielding the severed limb in his hands like a club. With an invisibly swift swing, he brought his wounded adversary to his knees just as Alice reappeared. I was relieved beyond belief that she seemed to be uninjured, though surely she was overcome by her thirst for vengeance because she grabbed onto James' flailing fingers from the arm that was still attached, and she wrenched two of them off, releasing another unholy shriek into the air. Edward spun and bashed the arm against Jazz's back, but he didn't seem to feel it. He was on his feet again, red eyes dangerous, and he struck Edward to the ground.

Rose screamed again, her voice finally catching up with the horror as she watched the life oozing from the wound in Emmett's neck, and I supposed that adrenaline kicked in right then, because she broke out of Esme's grasp and started running flat-out across the cold earth toward him. Another voice, deeper and louder and stronger and huskier joined hers with a purposeful "Nooooo!" just as a dark figure appeared at the tree-line. Quil bounded into the clearing, running straight at Rose and apparently nonplussed by all the carnage surrounding him. Before Quil could intersect her path, however, Jazz eluded Carlisle's clutching dive and caught hold of Rose's ankle, sending her splaying onto the ground.

She let out a feeble "Ugh" as the wind was knocked from her lungs on impact, and she lifted her chin off the ground when Jazz began dragging her toward him on her belly. Quil dove for her, and when she was one moment away from Jazz's teeth, a phenomenal crack assaulted my ears, and I saw Quil erupt in fur and fangs in mid-air, and he landed on Jazz's chest, effectively releasing Rose from her captor. She lay there, unmoving, as a deadly skirmish, replete with snarls and growls and roars, began to play out just feet from her. I clenched my jaw against the din and rocked back and forth in fear and cold and terror, and I willed her to get up and scramble out of harm's way.

It was then that a body flew in and landed on the wolf Quil's back. I recognized that it was Alice, and she was pummeling Quil with all her might.

Protecting Jazz.

The chaos was overwhelming. My entire body was shaking. That was when I noticed the dozen or so red stripes blooming over Rose's clothes.

Esme gathered Rose back into her arms and flew with one incredible leap out of the field of battle.

James was on his feet again, and he was kicking and snapping at Edward, who was keeping one eye on Alice rather than finishing James off. I was going to vomit at the thought of James' evil dirty teeth getting anywhere near Edward's perfect flesh.

Jazz had nearly severed one of Quil's paws from a foreleg with his powerful hands, and the scent of his wolf blood was more pungent and heavy than the rusty smell of the red that gushed and pooled around the helpless bodies of my two friends. I could barely breathe for the stench and the dread that attacked my senses. I was aware of my own sobbing, and I hated myself passionately for my uselessness. I fought for my consciousness so I could keep an eye on Edward, as though my will alone were keeping him alive. Carlisle was kneeling over Emmett with a cloth- probably a handkerchief, since the good doctor was absolutely a handkerchief kind of man- against his neck. Emmett's body was convulsing feebly, and the cloth was completely red, doing no good at all.

Meanwhile, Esme was fluttering her hands over Rose, who appeared to be unconscious. She was the lucky one, then because Emmett's eyes were still open through all of this. At least Rose wasn't in pain at the moment. At least she didn't have to look death in the eye. Esme had a pained and helpless look on her face, and I inwardly cursed her for allowing her attentions to be distracted from Edward, who appeared to be in need to some back-up.

At that moment, another giant wolf trundled into the clearing with ear-splitting snarls and rabid looking jaws. The new wolf seemed to take a moment to survey the situation in a low crouch before it leapt for Alice. It would have snatched her tiny body in its giant mouth with one snip if she hadn't dove at just the right time. Instead the new wolf succeeded only in tumbling Quil over, effectively unpinning Jazz from the ground.

The wolves regrouped to face the mass of vampires. Edward took advantage of Alice's brief moment of relative safety and James' distraction to grab at his evil, murderous head and wrench it from his torso. The explosive crack and the blood-curdling keening sound echoed off of the trees in all directions, and the wolves looked momentarily horrified or confounded. Apparently they hadn't expected their adversaries to turn on each other.

Edward left James' writhing pieces on the ground, adding insult to injury by kicking the severed head out of my field of vision and into the undergrowth. It was gruesome to see the various bits of James wriggling around on the pine needles and scuffed mud.

Edward took his place by Alice's side, facing the two giant deadly wolves, while Jazz stood trapped in the middle of them all. Silence descended, aside from the very low growls, the nauseating noises from Emmett, and the throbbing of my heartbeat.

The vampires sparkled like prisms in the dappled lemonade light that filtered through the trees. Snow weighed down a random branch here and there, offering up a reminder of how lovely this spot must have been before it had been overcome by red and violence and mud and fear.


	28. Chapter 28

**a/n: gallantcorkscrews is the new purple.**

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Departures

Quil stood on three paws, his enormous body shivering from the pain and bloodlust. The other, bigger, rusty colored wolf was crouched with hackles raised and fur on end and deadly fire emanating from his eyes. I knew it was Jake.

My ears were still ringing from the war noises, and that made everything sound muddy except my own sobs, which were too loud, echoing in my head and resounding through the trunk of the tree in which I crouched, frozen in fear and cold. I wanted desperately to quell my sobs because the noise cut through the tension disturbingly. I kept my eyes on Edward but watched everything else from my periphery.

Dr. Cullen and Esme were both still crouched over my dying friends on opposite sides of the trampled circle. Esme was watching the standoff playing out in the middle, but the doctor was intent on his patient. I thought I saw him lean in and lap at Emmett's neck, but when I turned my head to take his actions in more clearly, he was still just crouching there, covered in red, holding Emmett, elevating the wound, applying pressure. His lips moved silently, reverently, and I could have sworn he was praying.

I dragged a sleeve across my face and took deep breaths. I recognized the calm before the storm, and I roused some resevoire of strength in my soul to stop the crying before the nightmare recommenced.

It was the subtlest of movements that unleashed the insanity. Edward and Alice were standing as still as statues on one side. Quil and Jake were frozen but rumbling on the other. Jazz was trapped amidst them all peering with wildly shifting eyes and sidelong glances at each one of them, looking for a chink in the wall through which to escape. But when Quil tentatively lowered his broken paw toward the earth, as though he might step forward and break ranks, Jazz jumped.

In that same instant, before Quil's paw was even pressed to the ground, before Jazz could clear the boulder, before I could gasp, Alice was attached to him, holding on as though she would never let go.

She interrupted his trajectory enough and weighed him down enough that Jazz landed with an unholy crash atop the boulder, sending debris flying and rubble rolling and dust billowing around the scene. And Alice stayed on him, never letting go.

He snarled and gnashed and tried to shake her off as he raised himself to standing, king of the mountain atop the rock, but she clung to him, arms tight around his neck, legs entwined around him, not letting go.

Once again, the wolves were slower to react than the vampires. Edward was watching them, crouched, taut, ready to spring, ready to fight, ready to kill. He was focussed and deadly and stunning, never breaking concentration, despite the thrashing from Jazz and Alice, despite the new whimpers and moans that came from Rose, despite the fact that he was now one man against two enormous beasts. He never flinched, even when new noises came from behind my tree, even when a new wolf and then another- even bigger- slunk into the clearing, Edward never flinched. He waited for them to attack.

So I lunged forward.

Edward was the first to react to me, so attuned to me. As my foot caught on the root of my tree and I landed splayed on the cold, wet ground, Edward lurched in my direction, and Jake made his move.

I picked my chin up off the ground and was siezed by horror when Jake's massive jaw closed over Edward's throat. A strangled cry escaped from my lips, "NO! Jake don't!" The hot tears and suffocating sobs came back as I scrambled forward on all fours toward my Edward. I moved too slowly. Everything was slow, and specs of light danced around the ground, and my hands stung from the cold, and my nose dripped, and the ground vibrated from the crashing bodies that writhed before me, and one of James' fingers wiggled and beckoned at me greusomely when my dirty hand shuffled past it.

Edward and Jake were thrashing wildly, and I knew I'd be hit and hurt and maybe killed by a stray limb or misplaced blow, but I didn't care. I skittered forward. I was too close when Edward drew back his right fist and thrust it forcefully through Jake's fur, through his skin, into his chest, crashing through bone and sinew. Blood splattered over me and the ground and Edward, and the yelp and shocking whine staggered me. Edward tumbled to the ground, his arm covered in the thick, heady-scented blood, his neck slightly torn, his eyes black and deadly. And I knew the other wolves were lunging, and I knew they'd tear him apart before I could draw one more breath through my bloodsoaked mouth, so I threw myself on him.

My heart was screaming for Edward to be okay, and a wolf was screaming behind me, and Edward was trying to pry me off without breaking my fingers. And something stabbed through my shoulder, and then it was me screaming in pain.

My scream stopped everything.

Edward rolled me over onto the ground. My eyes were stuck wide open, and I noticed that Dr. Cullen held a massive wolf in his arms while Esme crouched in the fray between between the two others. Jazz still tried to shake Alice off, but I knew that she was never letting go.

"Bella Bella Bella Bella Bella." Edward whispered my name and cradled my head in his hands. I wanted to tell him not to turn his back on the wolves like that. I wanted him to protect himself and forget about me, but I was lost in his pitch black eyes, and the pain was overwhelming, so I breathed and stared at him until the sounds of snarling brought me back. I had to make this stop.

"You have to stop!" I screamed in my raw, rasping voice. My left arm wouldn't move, but I was able to raise my right hand to Edward's torn neck. I was like chipped marble, sharp in places, smoothly striated in others. I tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled myself up to sitting. I thought he would protest, but his furrowed brow just darkened more and he held me up. I surveyed the scene, the snarling mouths, the writhing wolf, the perfectly still forms of Alice and Jazz atop the rock, staring into each other's eyes as though they were the only two beings on earth.

I rolled forward onto my knees, desperately trying to ignore the nauseating pain burning through my shoulder and arm, and I moved to Jake's side where he lay spilling thick claret over the fur and mud. I pressed my fingers into his matted fur and said his name, and the whole time Edward held me, matching my moves, centimeter for centimeter, shifting as I shifted, giving space where I took it.

No one else moved but me and Jake for several moments. I petted his haunch in long soothing strokes as he shook. And then I looked into the eyes of each creature who was looking at me. One by one i surveyed them, monsters all. Beast and demon, dog and man, I looked from eye to eye of the four wolves and Edward and Esme and the doctor.

"Look at me," I whispered to the largest wolf, even though he was already looking. "Edward didn't do this. His family didn't do this. They would have stopped it." Each phrase I spoke was punctuated by a spasm of breath as I tried to ignore the pain. "They were stopping it. Look at Rose. She's dying." I looked toward Emmett, whose form was finally still. At peace. "Look at Emmett. He's dead. Do you think anyone wanted this?" My voice shook with emotion. "Just stop," I whispered.

The wolf sat like a polite pup waiting for his master to tug on the leash.

Then the first wolf, Quil, limped over and nuzzled into Jake's bloody fur and whimpered. Jake whimpered in return. Everyone relaxed infinitessimally except for Jazz and Alice who were still caught up in their frozen stare like two warriers surprised by a gorgon in the midst of their grapple.

Dr. Cullen released the wolf he had been clinging to and rushed over to me, prodding at my shoulder. I immediately pushed him away. "Help Jake or Rose. I'm fine." Edward held me tight against his body, and I half expected him to protest and tell the doctor to help me, but he remained silent, clutching me. I could tell he wasn't breathing.

"Jacob," he said in his calm, smooth voice, "Can you change back?" His question was answered with a sad puppy whine, and Dr. Cullen looked at Edward who shook his head as though in answer to the question. He spoke to the other wolves next, collectively. "I can't help him like this. Get him to change and I will treat him. In the mean time I need to see if anything can be done for her." He pointed a cautious red finger toward Rose, and the biggest wolf nodded, granting permission for the doctor to move. I didn't know if Dr. Cullen was just being polite, or if the wolves really had the upper hand in the situation. From what I had witnessed, a vampire could do a helluva lot more damage to a wolf than vice-versa.

I tangled my fingers in Jake's russet fur and whispered, "Change, Jake. Please." He whined and snuffled at me. I felt blood trickling town my skin below my shirt. It was pooling warm and sticky in my navel. Edward held me tightly with one arm and rubbed light circles on my back with the other hand.

"Esme," Dr. Cullen called out. His wife rushed obediently to his side. "Get her to the house." I turned to look as Esme lifted Rose and carried her as easily as she had carried me earlier. Rose's eyes were open but clouded.

Still, as she passed by me, she seemed to see me because she said, "Did you see that, B? He fursploded." And then her head lolled back and I tried to ignore the stream of blood that flowed freely down her fingertips.

"Is she going to be okay?" I asked, my eyes pleading with the doctor to tell me what I wanted to hear.

"Maybe," was his dissatisfying answer. "She might have lost too much blood already. Her pulse is thready, and I don't know how much internal damage there is." He briefly shot an accusatory glare at Quil but then lowered his eyes guiltily. No time for blame.

Edward lifted me into his arms as Esme and Rose disppeared into the trees toward the trail. He cradled me gently, and stalked briskly away from the group of wolves. Just when he had me turned around where I couldn't see what was going on, I heard a high whine, a pop, and then Jake's voice. "Holy fucking hell!"

Dr. Cullen furiously wiped his stained hands on his shirttails as he slipped past us to Jake's side. I heard two more loud banging sounds and then murmuring voices. I was desperately trying to see around Edward's shoulder, to see my friend, to see the men who had just been wolves. But Edward kept moving as I moved, shifting as I shifted, in order to keep me from viewing the scene. I wondered if he considered it too grizzley for me or if there was something else he was shielding me from after all the carnage I had already witnessed. I soon grew weary of straining to see it. My pain was exhausting and excrutiating.

When I relaxed against his chest, he kissed me. But he remained completely silent. Not breathing.

I sighed, drinking in the calm of his scent, trying to drown out the stench of blood and the tension that buzzed through the air. I breathed deeply against his cold neck, shutting my eyes to avoid the sight of his jagged wound, clutching at the dizziness and unconsciousness that his scent could give me. I breathed him in, begging every molecule that entered my lungs to deliver me from the pain as he paced gently back and forth from tree to tree, just out of sight from the group that huddled over Jake.

The dusky feeling wouldn't come. I breathed as hard as I could against him, but consciousness refused to release me. "Breathe into me, Edward" I murmured. I touched his face and wrapped my fingers around his ear, pulling his face toward mine. His eyes dug into me with that look he had when he was rifling through someone's mind like a burglar in a desser drawer. But my drawers were still locked to him, so his eyes looked pained and strained and dark and wistful. He shook his head, ever so slightly from side to side without blinking. "Please," I breathed agaist his cheek, his mouth. He still remained perfectly silent but he closed his eyes and nuzzled his cold nose against my face as though overcome by the warmth of my breath on his stony flesh.

I yanked at his hair to shift myself in his arms to an angle where I could press my body tighter against his chest and revel in the way my thrumming heart was amplified throughout his form. "I need your breath," I whispered all over him, caressing his ear. I shivered violently with the cold from the air and the bloodloss and Edward's body. He had stopped his pacing as I planted pleading kisses on his face. I heard a muffled yell from behind us, and the sound of several voices talking at once, but Edward didn't shift, and I knew he was keeping tabs on the situation in his own way, so I wasn't worried. I planted my mouth right over his and pressed the word "anasthesia" through his stubborn lips.

Finally he opened his mouth and covered mine and drank my breath in deeply, exhaling into my mouth in exchange, and the giddy darkness flared around me almost instantly as we breathed into each other. The pain was extinguished along with all the sounds and sunlight and cold.

ooo+000+ooo+000+ooo

I opened my eyes to a vision of Edward's face wreathed in a halo of bright light. I squinted at him and felt his cool fingertips against my face. He stroked me lovingly, and a sweet adoring smile drifted over his mouth. "Hi."

I reached out to him, but my limbs were heavy. My head was heavy. I felt like I was underwater. But I forced myself to touch his face. And then my fingers slid down, catching on his collar momentarily before my arm slumped against the seat.

Of a car.

I looked around and grasped that I was in a garage, buckled into the backseat of the Mercedes that Esme had driven earlier. It seemed like months ago. Edward knelt on the grey concrete floor beside me, and a doorway somewhere behind him was illuminated.

"How's Rose?" I clutched clumsily at Edward's hand. "And Emmett? And-" I stopped myself, unsure about whether to ask about Jake. Would a mutant wolf boy survive being disembowelled by a vampire's fist? Could Edward stand it if I reminded him of the bloodbath?

He pressed a soothing hand against my forehead, "Relax, Bella. Don't get agitated." I attempted to scowl at him to let him know I wasn't asking; I was demanding answers about my friends. His eyes fell. They just fell and I knew. Gone. All gone.

"What happened?" I whispered. My voice was gone, ripped away from me like it had been tied to a string attached to his eyes when they fell. I let my head fall back and felt a hot tear slide down toward my ear. I felt my heart accelerating, and it was a thick, sloughing feeling that made my head rush. "I feel wrong."

"We gave you something for the pain. Carlisle stitched and dressed the wound," he glanced at my left shoulder, and I realized I couldn't feel it at all. I looked down to see some strips of white tape climbing out from under my shirt- not my shirt, a clean shirt, Edward's shirt- and over my collar bone, and my arm was in a blue and white sling. I looked back up at Edward. "Please don't hate me, Bella."

Oh God.

And of course not.

Impossible.

I wanted to grab his ears and shake him. His eyes were all pain and adoration. His lips were so inviting and inticing. His face was a mask of worry and regret. "Why would I, Edward? How could I?"

He leaned in to me and kissed my mouth so softly that his scent was all I really felt, and it left me wanting more.

"I have to go, Bella."

My hand reached for him and caught a wrinkle in his shirt and tried to cling.

He took my hand in both of his and lifted it to his mouth and kissed it with cold reverence. "I love you so much." His eyes were closed as he whispered those words against my hand, and I heard a small sound escape my throat. He lunged at me and took my mouth in a powerful kiss.

A goodbye kiss.

I didn't ever want it to end. I savored it: the feel of his lips and tongue and the thick, cold wet of the venom sliding around in his mouth; the small sounds of our lips dancing and my heart drumming and the occasional rumbling noise that emerged from one of us; the spiced, luxurious scent of his skin and breath; the tart wild fruit and mulled honey taste of his kiss. I didn't want it to ever end, but I pulled my lips away incrimentally until a sliver of air filled the space between us.

"No!" I choked against his mouth. "You don't have to go." My words were slurred and inadequate. I wanted to plead with him and convince him, but it was too much.

"I have to help Alice get Jasper someplace safe." His eyes were begging me to understand.

I understood.

And I didn't.

"Don't leave me. Take me with you." I felt tears rolling down my face and trickling over my lip. I inhaled in a gasping stutter and sniffed back the snot that threatened to embarrass me.

"It's not safe for you, Bella. I can't take you. I'm sorry." He was resigned and sure and breaking my heart.

"When will you come back?"

He looked down at our hands. "I-"

"Edward?"

"Bella, I love you more than you can know."

Oh God. "Don't do this."

"I'll come back for you," he sunk into me, and I felt the stab in my left shoulder and the stab in my heart simultaneously.

I tried to run my fingers through his hair, but my fingertips were tingly and my hands felt like foam and my arm weighed a ton, so it was impossible to caress him. "You have to come back."

"I will. I swear, Bella. I swear." His lips were all over me, planting wet little kisses that felt like heavy, fluffy snowflakes on my skin.

I sniffed violently, losing the battle against the mucous that wanted to invade my face. "You have to come back. Your family's here." I was grasping, hopeful, desperate.

"No. Esme's gone. She's taken Emmett already, and Carlisle is leaving with Rosalie as soon as he drops you at the hospital."

I felt my forehead crease as I tried to fight the fog out of my brain. "They're not dead?"

Edward's eyes were horrified. He stared at me. Uncharacteristically, he opened his mouth then closed it before taking at second try at speaking. "Emmett was bit. It was... too much."

"So he's dead." I moaned. Of course. I had seen all the blood, the carnage of his thraot, the look in his eyes. I had figured it out already, but talking about it made it real.

"He- he'll be like me." Edward was dejected and fearful as he spoke.

"Vampire?" I looked into Edward's eyes as I asked him, and he merely nodded once. "Rose?" I had to know the rest.

"She lost too much blood. Alice begged Carlisle to save her."

"Save her?" My mind was whirring. Rose was okay!

Edward saw my misapprehension and nipped it in the bud, "He bit her."

Horrifying.

Ghastly.

Absolutely horrifying.

Carlisle. Dr. Cullen. Smooth-voiced, pressed-trousered, handkerchief-toting Dr. Cullen ate my only living friend.

"She would have died otherwise, Bella. It was death or this," he gestured emphatically at himself.

Oh.

Edward reached for me and smoothed my hair away from my face and rubbed his thumb lightly over my cheek, collecting the moisture. He kissed me again, more gently, more languidly, and he seemed to savor the taste of my tears on my mouth. His tongue was greedy and forward and overwhelming. I felt myself blacking out again. It wasn't fair. I fought it. I shook my head away.

"No."

"Bella, it's time. Carlisle's ready." He was coaxing, lulling. hypnotizing.

"No. Please. I love you. Please don't go."

Dr. Cullen's voice swelled up from the brightest corner of the garage, "Edward, calm her down." He was stern, demanding. "Alice is waiting."

I looked up and saw the doctor carrying my friend. She appeared to be sleeping peacefully. The blood was gone. Her platinum hair was slightlyy damp, but it shimmered. She wore toothpaste-colored hospital scrubs. Dr. Cullen placed her in the passenger seat in front of me and buckled her in.

Edward grabbed my face between both of his hands so gently and delicately that I imagined I must have been something like an eggshell to him. "I love you, Bella." He kissed me. "I swear I'll be back." And then he kissed me again, and my mouth tingled from the venom that flowed off of his tongue, and it made me lightheaded. And when he breathed into my mouth, I unravelled and fell into darkness while luxuriating in the taste and feel and scent of him.

_**a/n: I guess that since you can always tell how close you are to finishing a story in paper form by fingering the thickness of the remaining pages of the book, it's only fair to warn you that the next chapter is the penultimate.**_


	29. Chapter 29

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Truth Is Out There

Numbness enveloped me when I awoke. I recognized the room instantly.

And the beeping machines and the tube stuck into my arm and the aroma of overcooked coffee in the air.

"Hey kiddo! You awake?" Charlie and his styrofoam cup were hovering over me before my eyes could really focus on the dull green and white room. He looked weary and worn with a grizzled unshaved face and circle of sleeplessness torturing his eyes despite his brilliantly wide smile.

"Dad," my voice was thick from the drugs and the yelling. I wondered how long I had been out. I wondered why Edward wasn't with me. But then I remembered. Gone. All gone.

Charlie grabbed my hand with his big, warm calloused paw and grinned down into my face. I felt a tear stabbing me in the eye. I didn't want Charlie to have to see me cry, but I felt so weary and everything was flooding back so fast. I just let the tear trickle out by itself while I remembered that Alice was gone and Rose was gone and Emmett was gone and Jazz was gone and-

"Is Dr. Cullen here?"

Charlie's brows pulled together sharply and his smile floated away. I was confused by his hesitation. Dr. Cullen was always looking after me in this hospital. Why shouldn't I ask about him?

"No, Bella."

So, Dr. Cullen was gone. He hadn't stuck around to make sure I woke up while Rose sat buckled into his car in the parking lot. I remembered her beautiful hair swaying as he put her in the car. Gone.

And that meant Esme was really gone. I remembered now.

And Edward was gone.

All gone. I ached and missed him the most, and I felt like a traitor because I hardly knew him, compared to Alice and Rose and Jazz and even Emmett or Dr. Cullen. I had hardly known Edward at all, and he was gone.

We hadn't had any time together, and it felt so unfair. I lay there with a cloudy head trying to remember how many days we had really had. How many hours had we really had? How many words had he ever spoken to me? How could he be gone when I had never been able to tell him what he meant to me?

Hot tears wandered lazily down my face as I thought about all the things I was missing. I wondered what I had done to deserve the loss. I thought of every tiny sin I had ever committed and every stupid thing I had ever done and I piled those insignificant things on the scales and weighed them against losing Edward, trying to demonstrate to myself that the world is just a heavy-handed bastard sometimes.

No matter how much I tried to balance it all out, it still wasn't fair. I chided myself for being a whiney little brat about it and feeling sorry for myself. While Charlie backed against the wall to let some vague blur of a doctor or nurse check me out, I beat myself up for the internal pity party, and then I just felt sorrier for myself for not even being able to muster some sense of entitlement within me to allow for a little perfectly acceptable, perfectly understandable hazy grief and weakness while lying weak and drugged in a hospital bed.

Someone wiped my face and asked if I was in a lot of pain. I shook my head because I wasn't even though I was. I was then told that I didn't need to be brave, and dozed off again. Maybe the drugs were stepped up a notch.

When I woke up again, there were snow flurries and a dark grey midday sky outside the window. I felt immensely better, physically. I sat up in the bed, and winced because my shoulder hurt. I nudged at the bandages. I remembered being bit by a wolf.

Jake? No. Jake had been busy bleeding all over the place when I was bit. Maybe it was Quil? Who knows. My back had been turned. All I knew was the bite, the stabbing, searing pain. I guessed I had stitches. I wondered if I would have a scar. Then I remembered that Edward had been bit as well. Would he be scarred? Would his perfect throat remained chipped and marred forever? And what about Jake? Had he survived? God, could there be yet another casualty in this gruesome nightmare?

Charlie was snoring in the green chair, still wearing his rumpled uniform, still sporting some half-week whiskers, still piling up a collection of little white styrofoam cups on the side table. He looked uncomfortable, so I had no qualms about waking him.

"Dad?" My voice cracked from disuse, so I cleared my throat and tried again, stronger this time, "Dad?"

Charlie snorted and rolled his head toward me, and then his eyes popped open and he stood up, knocking over a three-story styrofoam tower. A small splash told me that one of the cups still had some cold, disgusting coffee in it. Charlie ignored that and swooped to my side. "You're awake. You look better."

"Yeah," I made myself smile for him. "I do feel better." I paused while he stared intently at me as though maybe the doctor had told him I could disintegrate. I shook off the weird stare. "How's everybody else?" I didn't want to ask anything specific, in case it would turn out that I knew too much- which I did. I kept it vague, hoping that for once Charlie would be forthcoming.

"Everybody else?" He looked perplexed. No, he looked like he had no idea how to answer me.

I needed to be careful. "Were there any more casualties?" Please tell me if Jake is alive. Please tell me that James and Jazz didn't manage to kill anyone else before...

"Bella," his voice was somber. Unconsciously I tensed for the bad news. "We've found the last crime scene, and along with your blood, we also found-"

He was staring at the floor tiles. Blood at the crime scene. "Rose and Emmett?" I voiced it before I could stop myself. Now I'd be asked questions about what I remembered. Now I wouldn't be able to feign amnesia or say I had been unconscious for the whole time I was "missing."

Charlie raised his weary eyes to my face. "Just blood, Bella. No sign of either of them. Some scraps of clothing. A shoe, but no bodies."

"Was there-" How do I ask this? I felt my heart pounding. It was making me feel tired. This conversation was making me tired. "Were there any other victims?"

"After you disappeared, only Rosalie and Emmett." He stated it with a heavy sigh. I wondered if he had been the one to go to the Hale's house to tell her mother. I wondered if the guilt of having me alive and breathing while Rose was gone- just GONE- was going to eat him alive.

I sighed. The air was heavy with emotion, and I was exhausted from carrying my own grief as well as Charlie's for the moment. At least it was only Rose and Emmett. If he had listed Jake or anyone else, I might have broken.

"Only Rose and Emmett," I echoed. I wondered if I would see them again. I wondered if Rose and Alice would call me on the phone to chat and catch me up on all the latest vampire gossip. I wondered if Rose would finally get to make out with Emmett. I wondered if Alice had let go of Jazz yet. I doubted that. I smiled to myself and then felt fresh tears erupting. I let them erupt, lest Charlie become suspicious of my smile.

Everybody had somebody now but me. Charlie held my hand. I had Charlie.

A few months ago, knowing I had Charlie's unconditional love, knowing I had him as the rock in my life, knowing that no matter how stoic or befuddled he always seemed, he loved me more than anything- a few months ago that would have been a boundless relief. Upon learning that all of my friends were dead, at least I'd have had that.

But in reality, I knew my friends weren't really dead. They might be broken and in pain and confused and lost. They might have been ripped away from their lives, but they weren't dead. Not to me. I knew they were safe. I knew they had each other. I knew they were together somewhere. I knew they were with Edward.

No matter how much it might have comforted some previous Bella to have Charlie's sweaty hand encapsulating hers, that Bella was gone. The Bella who found comfort in the unconditional love of a parent was gone. I felt guilty that Charlie wasn't enough for me, but I couldn't feel too guilty because it was just a side effect of the change. Everything had changed, and all of the changes had changed me. It was more than just a philosophical theory now. I was a reality. I was different.

I needed Edward.

More than anything else, I needed Edward to comfort and protect me, to allow me to heal his torment and adore his soul. I needed to be with him.

Forever.

Another wave of tears cascaded from my eyes, and my head began to throb from it. My nose was stuffed, and I felt like my whole face was bigger than it should have been.

Charlie murmured a few helpless, comforting sounds, and thumped on my forearm with his free hand. But the only comfort I could ever have was Edward's touch and Edward's voice. I resigned myself to that. I resigned myself to missing him until the day that he came back to me. As he promised that he would.

Charlie stayed until I calmed down. And then he stayed some more. He stayed and stayed until they brought green jello on a tray, and he ended up eating it after I pulverized the cubes with the spoon.

Charlie stayed until a knock on the door gave him a chance to take a break from the monotony of the little room.

I know my face lit up when I saw Jake. It always did, somehow.

He stepped in tentatively. He seemed bigger to me as I lay there feeling small and alone. He had a forced smile on his face til Charlie slid out the door. Then Jake took up Charlie's vacated post, suffocating my weak little hand. "Hey bells." His voice was low and worried.

"What's wrong, Jake?" I reached up to his face but only manage to ineffectually caress the elbow of his frayed jacket.

His face changed from concerned to confused. "I've been so worried about you, Bells."

"Oh God. Me too! Jake the last time I saw you- Well, I didn't even know if you were alive, and I didn't know how to ask Charlie, and I'm so glad you're here, and you're FINE!" I fluttered my hand at him; enthusiasm and joy required that I breathe out as much as I could. I smiled at him as the words bubbled up from my heart. I really had been more worried about him than I thought I was. And I really was more relieved to see him than he could know.

He smiled a little.

"Looks like you're gonna be fine, too." His voice was dull. It wasn't usually dull.

"What's wrong, Jake?"

"Why do you keep asking me that?" he snapped.

I felt stung, "Why are you lashing out at me?"

"Why were you protecting that- that- _bloodsucker_?"

I gasped.

I stared at him. His eyes were angry, and they accused me of betrayal. I know I must have looked hurt because I felt hurt, and I was hurt. And I didn't know what to say to him because an attitude like that didn't really deserve to know the truth.

But love has a lot of side effects, and one of them was undiluted loyalty. When faced with Jake's accusatory tone, I leapt to Edward's defense.

"Edward didn't want anyone to be hurt. He was there to protect Rose and Emmett."

"Then why the hell did he drag you into the middle of a fucking war zone?"

"I was safe."

He pointed at me. "You obviously were not."

"Edward didn't do this. A _vampire_ didn't do this."

Jake stood up to his full height, bristling at my words. If I was the kind of girl to be intimidated by machismo, I definitely would have found Jake's posturing intimidating.

"I've got this little souvenir of just how much your boyfriend didn't want to hurt anyone." He lifted his sleeve and thrust his wrist into my face. He wore a bracelet of thickly braided brown leather wrapped around the ends of a roughly hewn piece of white stone. My stomach clenched and I felt ill when I realized it was a shard of James' mutilated body.

"Is that...?" I couldn't even say it.

"Yeah. It is, Bella. It's my fucking rib."

Huh?

He continued despite the confusion that I was sure was on my face. "This is part of what he shattered and your _doctor_ friend had to remove from my lung. Quite a souvenir, right?"

"Your rib?" I looked again at the bracelet, squinting my eyes at it because whether it was James' finger or Jake's bone, it was macabre.

Jake was ranting in a low, dangerous voice then. "And what about your friends? Huh? What about the girl that Quil has been busting his balls to keep tabs on?"

Oh hell no. "It was _NOT A VAMPIRE_ who killed her, either, Jake!"

"She was killed?" He raised his eyebrows with a sneer. "Was she Bells? Because I think there would have been a body. And a funeral. But I've got a newsflash for you: the pack- we're PROTECTORS. We PROTECT people from monsters. And we don't fucking kill the people we're protecting."

"Well, newsflash, Jake," I snarled his flippant comment right back at him. "Quil killed Rose. Her wounds were fatal."

That shut him up.

For a second.

"Then where's the body?" Jake leaned into me. "Where's the proof of that? I'll tell you. They took her with them when they RAN - ran because they're guilty - and they wouldn't have any reason to take a dead body along with them. So either she was still alive, and she was a snack for the road trip, or they bit her."

I sighed. He would refute me no matter what on this. I knew the truth. He didn't want to know the truth. I wasn't worth my energy to keep arguing with him. "How is Quil?" I asked wearily.

"What?" The sneer was gone.

"How is Quil? And the others? You're clearly not limping or anything, despite the wonderful memento you have of the occasion. Is everyone else alright?"

Jake sighed and folded himself into the green chair, surrendering to my change of tack. "Everybody's fine. I mean, it all sucks, but at least none of our people or our pack are dead."

I was relieved to hear that, too. We chatted slightly awkwardly until Charlie came back smelling like French fries.

"Isabella?" It wasn't like Charlie to address me formally, so I sat up a little straighter when he peeked his head through the door. "There are a couple of people here that want to ask you some questions." And so it begins.

I was expecting this, I'd been able to see it coming in Charlie's eyes since the moment I woke up. I had heard the mutterings from the corridor, too. I was the only known survivor of the Forks Killer. "I'm a bit worn out, Dad."

Hi voice was softer as he led two strangers into my room. "Bella, you've been through an ordeal. I know you need some time to recover, but the sooner you can answer a couple of questions, the sooner the state police and FBI can track that guy down."

The detectives wore rumpled business suits. They looked remarkably out of place in the shabby little room. The man had a balding head and dirty fingernails. The woman had raven hair that was pulled back sharply off her face and tiny diamond studs in her ears.

"Which one of you is the Mulder?" I asked. As soon as I said it, I cringed at how weak and lame it sounded. I was trying to be wise and smug and convey to them that this case would go unsolved without a wild suspension of disbelief. It came off sounding flip and defensive.

Charlie eyed me sharply for a moment. Too sharply. He was never a man of many words, so I had long ago learned to interpret his silences and body language. I told myself to keep in mind that all my friends were gone. I just had to answer the questions from the point of view of the Bella whose friends were killed by the lunatic. Human lunatic. Keep vampires out of this.

"Hi, Bella. I'm agent Weiss, and this is Detective Alexander." The woman had a low, reassuring voice. I was sure she had practiced sounding calm and assertive. "Tell me, do you remember anything about your kidnapper?"

What could I say? What did they know? Could I claim amnesia? Could I explain that I wasn't so much kidnapped as I was just making out with this really hot vampire the whole time my father was worrying about me. No.

"Kidnapper?"

"Did you see anything while you were..." Charlie was at a loss for words.

"Captive," the woman finished for him.

"Um, trees?" I had to keep it vague til I knew more. I should have asked Jake what had been on the local news.

"Bella," the detective stepped forward, and his pate shone in the fluorescent light. "We've found evidence that you and some other victims may have been held at a local residence for some length of time before the suspects fled town." He waited for me to speak. I looked at Charlie and Agent Weiss. They looked at me.

"They kept me comfortable." I stated.

"Well thank God for that," Charlie mumbled.

"Bella, did you have much contact with anyone in that house?"

You mean aside from the snuggling? "I mostly stayed in one room, and the lights were never on."

"Do you recall being drugged?"

"Drugged?" This was new. Would Edward have drugged me? Why would he? All he had to do was breathe on me, and I got high and relaxed. Oh, but I recalled that he said they'd given me something for the pain after I was bit. "Not that I recall. Was I drugged?"

"We found traces of an as-yet unidentified organic compound at the crime scene, in the house, and in your blood."

"You took my blood!?" I felt myself shaking. I HATED blood tests. Suddenly the arm with the IV in it felt like it was pulsating and tingling. I knew it was psychological, and the damn needle had been there for quite a while, but now that I knew they had drawn my blood... I lifted the drooping sleeve that covered the crook of my elbow. There was a bandage there. "Charlie! You know I hate to have blood taken."

"Calm down, sweetie." Charlie patted my hand and gave an embarrassed sideways glance to Detective Alexander for my outburst. "It was routine. You were asleep."

I sighed and took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. Then I yawned. This was wearing me out.

Agent Weiss spoke again in her serene voice, "Bella, I can tell that you're holding back some information. I want you to understand that even if you were treated well and you were comfortable and maybe even treated with kindness and compassion, there were many others who were not as lucky as you. Several people were murdered by the person or persons you are trying to protect by evading our questions. I can tell that you feel a little sense of loyalty toward them for treating you well, but by not cooperating with us, you're really only allowing them to move to another town and kill another dozen innocent people."

What could I possibly say to that?

Three pairs of eyes stared with patience and expectancy.

"I honestly never saw any faces." I studied the rumples of my blanket that rolled like hills over my legs. "They only whispered, so I don't know if they were men or women or both. And I don't know how many. They fed me frozen waffles and fruit, and they had bottled water, and I was certain that they weren't keeping anyone there but me, but I can't tell you why I thought that."

Silence filled the tiny space when I finished speaking.

Then Agent Weiss spoke again, "What about at the crime scene? It was daylight then, and it's clear that you and two of your friends were there."

Oh yeah. Hmmm.

"I was blindfolded. Like with a pillowcase- or something like it- over my head. I knew Rose was there because I heard her voice from off to the side, and she was yelling for Emmett at one point. Mostly, all I could hear were animal snarls. At the time I had the feeling it was-" I looked up at her, thinking maybe I could sell this ridiculous story if I could manage the right furtive look of earnestness in my eyes. "This is going to sound far-fetched and stupid."

"Trust me, Bella. Anything you have to say about that incident will be taken seriously. There's no need to edit yourself out of fear that we won't believe you." She forced a small curve of reassurance into the line of her mouth, but it was overwhelmingly unconvincing.

"Well, I just felt like it was a ritual or something." I took a moment to look at all three of them. "I mean, I could hear Rose off to one side, and then I heard all this animal snarling from the other side, like we were arranged in a triangle. And at the time, it felt like no one else was there. No people I mean, like maybe they were up a tree watching from far off. And it was just me and Rose and the animals, but then I realized Emmett was there." I looked down again. "There was so much snarling. Like bears or something. And then I got bit, and I passed out."

"Do you remember how you got there?"

"Someone carried me."

"Do you remember how you left the scene?"

"No."

"Do you recall anything between the incident and waking up here in the hospital?"

I recalled Edward saying goodbye. And kissing me. And promising to come back.

"No. Nothing."

At that point, the door opened, and I sighed from relief when the three sets of eyes, full of questions and frustration, left me. A doctor came in.

"I think Bella can be excused from visitors for the rest of the day," she said. A nurse followed her in as Charlie ushered the crowd out. I kept my eyed resolutely fixed on the pink clouds outside the window while the bandage was stripped away and the doctor said "Hmmm" at my wound. The sun was setting. Twilight was coming.


	30. Chapter 30

a/n: There will be an epilogue.

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

Chapter Thirty: Anything and Everything

Christmas arrived before I even realized I should be decorating the house and buying presents. We kept it low-key and had dinner with the Blacks. Jake wore that bracelet. At least he didn't give it to me as a Christmas present.

The FBI and state police kept asking me questions because they really didn't want to believe my story. I couldn't blame for that. I wasn't fond of lying, wasn't practiced at it, and hated to keep doing it. Then again, they wouldn't have believed the truth either.

New Years Eve came and went. I fell asleep on the sofa waiting for the ball to drop. That was when I was just starting to get the hang of the waiting game.

I got my stitches out on New Years Day. The doctor said I'd probably have the scar forever if I didn't want plastic surgery.

A month passed.

I got better at waiting, passing the time.

The memorial on the cliff face along the highway was all but gone. There was a new Wall Of Memories inside the school cafeteria. Pictures of Rose and Emmett and Kris and Rob and Jazz and several other faces whose names I had never learned stared at us while we ate our lunches. I added a small photo of Alice next to Jazz because I knew they were together. Every day I passed that wall and wondered where they were and what they did to pass the time. I wondered if they were all together. I was pretty sure they were.

I was a little jealous that my friends got to see Edward smile and hear him laugh and watch him run his fingers through his har every day while I was all alone and missing all those parts of him.

On Valenties Day, I skipped school and snuck up to the clearing that was nestled into the trees above First Beach, and I climbed the rock where Alice had tamed Jazz, and I stared out at the sea. The grey waves tipped with white looked icy cold. Ships scuttled through them. I didn't spot any whales.

When I was good and cold, but not as cold as I had been on _that_ day, I climbed down the rock to look around.

There was a fine ash scattered inside of my hidey-hole. Someone had burnt something up here since the battle, and the breeze had blown the evidence into my tree trunk where it was preserved and protected from the elements that had blown and washed and obliterated away all the footprints and blood and charred pine needles. I stuck my finger into the soft ash that had survived throughout all the awful winter weather and then I streaked the purple black dust across my jeans to try to get it off. It smelled sweet like that opium scented incense that Renee used to burn.

I took the long way home, passing by Rose's place for the first time in over a month. I noticed a red convertible parked outside of the house with a For Sale sign on it.

Charlie took to eyeing me suspiciously all the time. He never talked about the investigation around me any more. I think he was angry with me for witholding information, though he never once actually accused me of lying. He knew the various investigators were frustrated with me. He didn't understand why I would protect a serial killer. Then again, he never asked me about it. He was afraid I'd break down and cry if he forced me to talk about it. All he knew was that the psychologist who spoke to me before I was released from the hospital said I was repressing the traumatic events in order to protect myself from the pain. That was enough to keep Charlie at arm's length.

Winter began to fade. The FBI and detectives and reporters and goth-tourists began to thin out.

Edward's face was everywhere. The school buzzed about him constantly. The town whispered about him and his family. It turned out that the circumstantial evidence I had supplied to Charlie about the footprints had been enough to get Edward on the FBI's Most Wanted list. Of course he had left more footprints all over the clearing, as had Esme and Dr. Cullen, so Esme and the good doctor were wanted as well. My hair and saliva were found in the house, and my blood had dripped in the garage. Similar evidence that Rose and Emmett had been in the garage was also found. It irritated the cops that there was no DNA evidence from any of the suspects. No hair, blood, sweat, spunk, fingerprints, anything.

Of course, they never did identify the nature of the organic compound that had been found in traces all over the bed in the room where I had stayed and in my blood and around the crime scene. I knew it was venom. I remembered the taste of it. Thinking about that made my mouth water and my lips ache to kiss Edward again.

Agent Weiss and Detective Alexander came around the house frequently at first. Then they were replaced by other faces. I answered a lot of questions that I didn't know the answers to, and I tried to keep my story straight, wishing I had taken notes that day in the hospital when I had made it all up. As least no one was around to contradict me. At least the animal prints taken from the scene made my story slightly plausible.

The fact that Edward's school records showed that he had been home-schooled his whole life didn't help his case. For some reason the home-schooling made people nod knowingly, as if that was all the proof they needed that he was a psychopath. Then the story that emerged that he had been taking care of his ailing sister since she married the doctor five years previous to the crimes. He came off sounding like a freaky shut-in from a defective genealogical background. Of course, that story made Dr. Cullen into a slightly sympathetic character. He married into the lunatic, axe-murdering family five years ago, taking on a troubled teenage brother-in-law. Who could blame him from uprooting his life in the middle of the night once he had discovered the demonic satanic rituals that the boy (and possibly his sister- the doctor's own wife!) were up to? There was a lot of tutting and head-shaking. Everyone loved Dr. Cullen for his well-known bedside manner, so the town was eager to make him another victim of Edward and his crazy sister Esme.

In early March a spring storm front settled in and lay seige to the night.

I sat bolt upright in my bed as a blast of cold air roused me from my uneasy sleep. I might have yelped from being startled. My eyes were suddenly rendered useless by a bright flash of lightening, but there was no mistaking the scent that hung heavy on the air around me. I breathed him in, my heart racing as I blinked against the black dots that clouded my vision. "Edward?" I could barely breathe his name.

There he stood, framed in my window, the rain clinging to his hair and shirt and lips. He licked them; I saw the glint of moisture sparkle on his tongue. Lightening flashed and silhouetted him as he shrugged out of the soaked jacket he was wearing.

Thunder rumbled. So loudly that I didn't even hear the heavy denim crumple to the floor. He kicked his feet out of his shoes, and I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I sat facing him, and in the seconds between the flash of lightening and the crack of thunder, the room was so silent that I could hear each drop of water that splattered on my floor in the growing pool at Edward's feet. He stepped over his shoes and out of the puddle and took my face between his hands.

"Bella." He kissed me.

It wasn't one of those kisses from a novel or a movie. It wasn't one of those perfectly sweet reuinion kisses or one of those boldly passionate toe-curling kisses. His lips were too hard and too wet, and they dripped with the sweet, delicious venom that flowed readily from his gums because he was built to kill me. It was a painful kiss, too hard, too cold, too wet, too desperate, too poisonous. It was the best kiss of my life.

We needed this kiss. We needed to taste each other and feel each other and push each other. I needed the pain and the palpitations and the searing in my chest. I needed the way he gripped me and the way he ached for me and the way he missed me. I needed all of it. The heavens sparked and roared and growled at us.

His hands slid down from my face to my shoulders and I felt my teeshirt rip away. I know I gasped this time. I was frightened and excited, and I needed the way he needed me. My palms rested against his chest as he stood between my knees pulling on me and sucking on me and grabbing at me. He licked over my scar and pressed kisses into it and examined it thoroughly with his fingertips.

I let my fingers glide over his form as we struggled to devour each other. I let my fingertips search for scars on his neck, for anything that marred the cold, smooth surface, for any remnant of that awful day that forced him to leave me. For anything that meant my presence in his life had left a mark.

His cold hands were wandering over my shoulder blades and arms and sides and neck, and as they moved, his finger grazed my breast, causing me to gasp again. My body began to shake as Edward leaned me back across the bed. The rain pounded against the roof above us. His mouth was feasting on mine, skirting the edges of caution, toying with the boundaries that needed to be respected lest my skin tear and bleed and fill with poison. I pulled at his collar and tugged at his hair and plucked at his buttons and tried to keep breathing when his fingers slid across my breast again.

A low noise slid through his chest and slithered over my skin where his mouth was savoring the taste of my kisses. Venom flowed more plentifully than I remembered, and it was sweet and tingly and wet and cold. It definitely had an intoxicating effect on me because it tasted just like Edward smelled, but more concentrated, distilled, powerful, and amazing: essence of Edward. My head swam with it, and I know my heart was beating more slowly and more deliberately as I sucked at his mouth and he filled mine with his tongue. My lips were going numb, either from the beautiful poison or from the cold or from the overload of attention.

Edward pulled his shirt off his shoulders, and I slid it down his arms. My hands moved back up his exposed skin, gliding along, feeling the stony flesh and lean, sinuous muscle. I worshipped him with my fingertips, which seemed to encourage him to be more daring with his own hands. He pulled his face away from mine and when my lips missed him my eyes fluttered open. I looked at him, staring at me, watching me, sizing me up, breaking me down, hunting me. His thumb trailed over my lips that were tingling and stinging and cold and futilely fighting the numbness, and then it slid between my lips, and I tasted him. His thumb tasted differently than his lips and tongue. It was less sweet, less flavorful, more stony, more earthy. I heard his alluring rumble again when my tongue caressed his thumb.

If he kept making that noise, I could eat him up. Lightening flashed.

"Bella," he breathed as he raked his free hand over my body and I pulled his thumb more deeply into my mouth. Oh God, that voice. That low, quiet, husky, rasping, pleading voice. I'd do anything for it. Anything. "I want to tear your clothes away and sink my teeth into the soft skin at the inside of your thigh and drain your life's blood with my nose right there where I can smell how much you want me as your hands pull my hair and your gasping breath and whimpers fill my ears."

I looked at him. He was trying to scare me away. His eyes said this was my last chance.

"Anything."

His thumb escaped from my mouth and his lips returned and his hand slid down my throat and over my collar bone and around my breasts and on top of my stomach. He touched me and felt me and fondled me with his elegant, frosty fingers. He was heaven. I bit him wherever I could, and he made that noise again, and I gasped when he pressed his cold palm against my abdomen. I whimpered when his fingertips skirted over and along and just beneath the waistband of my sweats. I followed his lead with my hands and studied the cold curves of his chest and shoulders. His chest was wide and powerful. His shoulders were broad and stong. His back was straight and sinewy. His waist was narrow and muscular. He was everything.

His muscles felt like living stone. They moved and flexed and twitched like muscles, but they were stone and cold and hard. He was incredible. I had to keep touching him just to convince myself over and over that he was really there, really real. Thunder rumbled. So I slid my hands everywhere they could reach, and I found surprises everywhere I touched. There was hair where hair should be, despite the way his skin felt so dead. There was a ridge of muscle angling across his waist, symmetrically on each side, and it felt perfect and beautiful.

"Beautiful."

He said that. About me. I opened my eyes, and he was watching me touch him. I hadn't noticed when the kissing had gone to intermission. I raised myself up on my elbow, not content with the distance that suddenly separated us, and instead of going for his mouth again, which was my first instinct, I let my tongue explore his neck.

There are no words for the way Edward's throat tasted. I've tried and tried to figure it out. He was sweet, like his mouth, and salty like my skin, and earthy and spicy and warm but very very cold. He was sensational.

And he seemed to like my tongue on him a lot because it elicited that sound again, and I felt the smile play across my face, even though my lips still felt strange from all the kissing and the venom and the cold.

His hands were on my hips again, being devillish again, sliding up to my waist and down again, and with each downward movement, he pulled my sweats a little bit. I fell back again, against the bed again, and I resumed my perusal of his perfect torso, finally daring to touch as low as the waistband of his jeans.

Somehow that made Edward accelerate. His mouth went back to working overtime while he let some of his weight fall upon me for the first time, and the cold of his skin pressing again my skin was overwhelming. My body buzzed and lightening crashed, and the energy was us. Me and Edward. Edward and Bella. The lightening storm was us.

"Bella."

He began to pull my sweats away in earnest now. I opened my eyes, and he was watching me, waiting for me to stop him. I touched his face with the palm of my hand, and then I was naked in front of Edward.

He stood beside my bed where I lay diagonally atop my quilt. I could tell it was warmer when he was away from me than when he was on top of me, but I felt the goosebumbs erupt across my flesh as he stood looking, and I shivered. The rain beat harder, and some sleet joined in to lash at the windows, and the wind began howling.

Edward's hands went to the buttons of his jeans, and he watched my face as he unfastened each one with meticulous slowness. I couldn't look down at his hands. It was too embarassing to think that I might see him naked, so despite the darkness I closed my eyes when I saw the final button give way. I heard the denim slide, and I imagined a shimmy of his legs to match the sound, but really it must have been him yanking his legs out of them because the weather was doing everything it could to mask his shuffling from my senses.

Then his fingers found my face again and he kissed me a thousand times: my eyelids and my ears and my nose and cheeks and chin, my lips, my tongue when I stuck it out, my throat, my neck, my forehead, my tmples... He kissed me a thousand times.

I heard tree limbs creaking as the wind picked up, and I started kissing him, but I lost my chance when his face moved downward.

Edward kissed me a million times. He covered every surface of my body, every curve, divet, bone, angle, hair, nail, freckle, and bruise. He kissed me a million times.

The storm raged and sang and I realized that it was rejoicing with every voice it could muster because what Edward was doing to me was right and wonderful and worth celebrating.

Edward's voice joined in the melody. "I love you." He punctuated every stanza of the song. "I love you." He chanted into my stomach. "I love you. I love you . I love you." The incantation fell upon my flesh as his lips dragged themselves lazily over my skin and his fingers began to understand and even anticipate every little movement that his breath and touch and voice could elicit from me.

I was swept away in the beauty of the song, and I began to sing along, and when he heard me say "Edward, I love you. I love you so much," he became enflamed and his tongue tasted me. Everywhere. And I was shaking. All over. And I didn't know what to do, and really I couldn't move on my own- I only moved in response to him. Reactions. I had my reactions. No, Edward had them. They were all for him. Every reaction belonged to him, and I belonged to him, and I began to believe in that moment that he belonged to me. MY Edward. But I couldn't premeditate any movement and I couldn't stay still, so I let myself touch him.

I touched with my fingers and my feet and my knees and my forearms and my calves and my elbows and my stomach and my breasts. I touched him with my nose and my tongue and my pounding heart. I touched him. I touched Edward. My Edward. And we sang to each other in strangled whispers, and the lyrics were simple and important, and we wrote the best love song ever while I lay there, not knowing what to do but trusting him completely and loving him wholly and whispering his name and the three simple words to our song.

And when our mouths met again and we let the interlude take over and we heard the rain lashing and the wind blowing and the trees creaking and the thunder grumbling, when his hands were in my hair and mine were in his and we were completely tangled and everything was hot and cold and perfect and frightening, I felt something that I had never felt before pressing into me, pushing into me, sliding, gliding, breaking, fighting its way into me.

I stopped breathing then, and my fingers hurt from grabbing him so hard and my stomach hurt from the strange pressure inside and my mind hurt because I thought maybe I was doing it wrong because he stopped.

"Open your eyes."

"I can't."

"Relax. This is _everything_, Bella." His mouth was so close to mine that the scent of his breath trickled up my nose and down my throat and I concentrated on that, and I let my knees fall toward the mattress just a little. "I love you, Bella. You're mine. You're everything. Please."

"Everything," I echoed insensibly. My voice was cold and wrong and small, but I knew he meant what he said because he stayed hovered over me, inside me, and he kissed my eyelids that I couldn't open, and I realized I had two fists full of his hair, so I relaxed my hands and slid them down to his neck.

"Okay." I breathed, and I knew that he knew what I meant because he moved again. Deeper. A delicious rumble galloped through his chest as I exhaled. I hadn't even been aware that I was holding my breath.

It was cold and wonderful and exhilerating and numbing and he moved so slowly and I didn't know when he would be where he wanted to be, but I wanted to do it right for him, and I had no idea what to do, so I stayed still and I breathed and I tried to relax while he kissed my mouth and my face and my neck.

"Kiss me, Bella. Please."

I didn't realize I wasn't kissing back, and I became embarrassed, and I opened my eyes.

His face was right there an inch from mine, and the lightening was a little farther away so when it flashed, it lit the room in soft light so I could see him for a moment without being blinded, except I almost was blinded because Edward was so radiant and beautiful and everything I wanted. And he was mine. My Edward.

His hips had stopped gliding toward me and I knew this was the best feeling in the world. I had pressure and pain, but it was numbing and tingling, and he was so still and so careful, and he closed his eyes for a moment and a soft smile played across his lips, and then he opened his eyes and said "Bella, in a hundred years, nothing has ever felt this good."

And then he kissed me.

And I kissed him, as profoundly as possible.

And he began to move.

I gasped, but he was careful, and the moment was magical.

And he moved.

I felt a million sensations in every part of my body. My toes felt new and my ears felt new and my hips ached a little, and my breasts were so cold where he was touching me.

And he kept moving, and I had no idea at all what to do, so I kept trying to stay relaxed while kissing his mouth or his face or his head or his shoulder or whatever I could reach. But soon I really couldn't relax, so I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him toward me with my heels.

And he moved faster.

"Oh God." Was I praying or begging for redemption or just crying out in pain and joy? I hurt and I rejoiced and I sang and I moaned and I shivered while I sweat because I was so hot outside and so cold inside, and it was like I was setting Edward on fire because my own sweat glistened on his face and chest and his hair was still wet and his mouth was too perfect.

"Bella!" He became very still again and he wasn't breathing at all, and his hands were gripping much too hard and his teeth were sharp, and I held my breath. He moaned, and his neck was marble and strong-looking and very very still. Then he swallowed, and I saw his neck move.

And I kissed it.

He lifted his face and looked at me and licked his red lips and then licked a tear off my cheeck. His black eyes closed and his chin was hovering above my face for a moment.

He swooped down upon my mouth and kissed me hard and began moving again, and everything was frantic and very hot and very cold all at once. And I began to gasp because I forgot I was holding my breath again, and I breathed into his mouth and I couldn't control the noises that I made as he moved and moved and moved and moved. And I felt like I might explode. I wanted to. Anything. It was overwhelming. Too much.

Too much.

And more.

More.

His hand moved to touch me, and his fingers were so cold that I couldn't lay back any more, so I leaned up, supporting myself on my elbows at first, and a thin stream of red meandered over my collar bone, down my chest that heaved and gasped, through the valley of my breats, and into my navel. But then I had to hold him, so I threw my arms around him, and I felt the mouth of heaven open up and engulf me at the same time that Edward moaned and his mouth hit my throat again.

I may have cried or screamed.

Heaven. Ecstacy. Hell. Agony.

I began to burn.

Edward's arms encircled my waist, and I was leaning agaist his shoulder sitting up with him on the bed. His kisses were still compulsive. And I clutched and gripped and pulled. He was no longer inside of me, and it was relief and anguish. I was empty and hollow and ecstatic and overwhelmed and burning. All the while Edward never stopped kissing me.

He kept me quiet, even though it hurt, and he kept drinking my tears while he pulled his jeans back on and wrapped the quilt around me.

At some point, I heard the purr of a motor cutting through the post-storm silence. Edward's hands never stopped caressing my bare flesh as I sprawled across the leather seat. He never stopped leaning in to kiss me, even after my eyelids fell down despite my best efforts to keep Edward in my sight so that he could never escape. At some point I fell asleep, and I never dreamed that night. And at some point consciousness crept in on me and I opened my eyes and rolled to my side, and my entire body hurt, but my entire body sang because Edward's eyes were watching me and Edward's hands were touching me, and Edward, my Edward was loving me.


	31. Chapter 31

a/n: Thanks to all my readers. You guys made this story happen.

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, and I am enchanted by her work.

_Epilogue_

The news reports were gruesome.

I always knew they would be, and I tried hard at first to shield her from them. Years later they were cold case files, fodder for afternoon TV. I caught her watching one day. There was a snapshot of me. WANTED. There were crime scene photos: the woods behind the school, that clearing above the beach, the house where I allegedly held her captive... And finally her bloodstained bed, just as her father must have found it: rumpled and red from my uncontrollable lusts.

She hated that I was wanted for all the murders. She hated the injustice of it, but I saw no injustice at all. I had committed the very foulest crime of the whole mess. I had killed her.

And to pay for that heinous crime, all I had to do was stay out of the continental US for fifty years or so. That was nothing. I had her. Those months without her were too painful to dwell upon. That's when I paid for my crime. I paid in advance. And then I decided that I had suffered enough, selfish creature that I am. I couldn't stay away from her. At first I told myself I'd only look. But then I smelled her and I knew that I had been lying to myself.

I knew that if I abstained from her any longer, I'd only be postponing the inevitable. I knew my limits. I knew my weaknesses. What was the point in kidding myself?

I've only ever been dominated by two things in my life: a lust for blood and a lust for Bella. That night I fed them both.

I was the vilest glutton, the wickedest man, the luckiest soul on earth that night.

Years have passed, and though I have definitely been hounded by the sins I committed, I have never regretted committing them. She has never regretted them either.

If she had, I suppose I would be tormented like I should be, but Bella never blames me or holds it against me or falters in loving me. She never shies from my touch or loses patience with my temper or is disgusted by my appetites. She is so much better than me.

I used to chide her for her language and the way she leaves her shoes just inside the door or any number of other petty little things, but then I realized I was finding fault in her because I was hating myself for what I did to her. She didn't deserve any of it. So now I move her shoes carefully out of the way so I don't crush them, and one day I asked her to teach me all the myriad vocal inflections she could attribute to the word "fuck" that could turn it from a verb to a noun to an adverb to a question to a statement to an exclamation to an admonition. She was a patient teacher with those lessons. I'm still learning. She is always patient with me.

I check the status of her friends and relatives online for her when she asks me to, even though it always makes her melancholy. I let her make plans for all the things we'll do and the places we'll go once the Forks Killings are a distant memory to everyone who had to live through them. I put up with the way she tells Rose and Alice some secrets that she won't tell me, even though she knows I'll probably find them out.

We became one big dysfunctional family. Eight vampires. It sounds worthy of a sitcom. Carlisle could no longer practice medicine, on account of being an accessory to my killings, and we had to lay-low, since half of us were wanted by the FBI and the other half of us were murder victims.

Therefore we retreated to an old mining ghost town near some friends of Carlisle's in Alaska. We lived in hundred-and-fifty-year-old run-down wooden structures, but we didn't need heat or running water or electricity because we didn't get cold, we could wash the blood and mud off in the snow, and we could see just fine in the dark. So it was actually alright for a few years, til everyone got bored of a life full of snowmen and rich, fatty blood from arctic beasts. There was no internet, or TV up there for us. We got newspapers once a week from Carlisle's friends who would either run up to visit us after hunting, or one or two of us at a time would risk the run down to the little village they shared with humans to spend an hour or two with them. Alice frequently dragged Jasper out for that errand. He was even more sullen then than he is now, and his broodiness made little Alice crave relief from the monotony of our ghost town the most. After all, Rose finally had Emmett, so she was fairly content most of the time.

Emmett proposed to Rose and they were married on the one-year anniversary of that cold December day when they both were killed. Bella didn't understand why they wanted to commemmorate that day because to her it was truly traumatic- overflowing with violence and terror- but to them, it was the concrete beginning of their happily ever after.

Jasper and Alice don't quite have the blissful exuberance of Rose and Emmett, however. They're deeply in love, of course, but his guilt and shame from the murders he committed has turned him into a bit of a gloomy homebody and stunted his emotional relationship with Alice to some extent. Ironically, it turns out that he has a special skill with other people's emotions, and he can amplify and quell the feelings that people around him are experiencing. We all sincerely want him to be happy, for Alice's sake as well as for his own, so we do what we can to support him on the melancholy days. It helps that Emmett doesn't remotely hold a grudge about Jazz murdering him. Alice is exceedingly patient and gentle with him. She sticks to him like glue and can always make him smile, no matter what's going through his mind.

Carlisle and Esme have been generous beyond belief as their family suddenly swelled. After my help with getting everyone together in Alaska and finding the deserted little village for us to call home for a while, I was no help to them at all. I was broken without Bella, so that left Carlisle and Esme completely alone in guiding everyone else. I shirked all of my duties to hole up in the dusty attic or (once everyone began passing the neverending nights with neverending sex marathons) polar bear caves to mope and brood and miss her.

When I couldn't stand being away from her any longer, and when I was sure that the FBI presence in Forks had backed off enough that I could get Bella out of that town, and when I was able to find a way to escape from everyone else long enough to get too far away for them to bother chasing me, I went back. As I had promised.

I took everything from her. She gave me everything. I still look at her in awe and wonder, marvelling at how generously she gave me her body and her life. She still maintains that she came out ahead because she got me, but that's the Stockholm Syndrome talking or something.

I'm watching her now, catching bunnies in the little clover field on the hill. Catch and release. Catch and release. Too small to eat. My heart overflows with her. She's like a child sometimes when the sun is shining, and the ewes are lambing and the heather starts to turn our whole world the rich pink color of her lips. She loves it here, even though she misses Alice and Rose.

We needed some time alone together after all the years of hiding out and new identities and all eight of us attending university together and patiently waiting for Carlisle to finish medical school so he could get a license to practice under his new name- even though I tried to convince him to forge the documents because I had been so sure that the tedium of med school with his experience would kill him. But he thought it was all excellent fun, and the environment brought smiles to Jasper's face sometimes, and Bella, Rose, and Alice thrived with so many new things to learn, and...

After all of that, we just needed this. We just needed each other for a while.

And now I'm where I have needed to be since long before I ever knew I'd need anything at all outside myself. I'm in an open field on the other side of the world from where I killed her, and the sun is shining in her hair and sparkling on her skin as she nuzzles soft little rabbits against her face. I'm in the perfect place. I'm with Bella, and she's with me. My Bella. Forever.


End file.
